The Games that Daddies Play
by jokergurl92
Summary: Joker is an agent of chaos; he's a man of simple tastes. Allegra Von is a seductive klepto and she likes Joker just the way he is. When these two meet, Gotham may be getting more trouble than for what they bargained. A story in which 'house' has never been played before. Joker/OC. Rated M for sexual content and coarse language throughout.
1. Compromising Situation

Chapter One: Compromising Situation

Joker sat in a dark colored van with tinted windows. He'd yet to buy the fascinating wardrobe he'd planned on getting with the money he'd 'borrow' from the mob; nope, for now, he was in a garb of blue jeans and a dark violet collared long-sleeve shirt, which he'd undone to bring mid-elbow length. His hair, while remaining a soft tint of blonde, was the permanent green dye, and the make-up...well, that would come in time. The image was in his mind, but not quite set. He needed a rag tag team of expendable but dependable soldiers before thinking of coming in contact with the mob.

He wasn't afraid of them—he was just smarter than the other imbeciles that tried to take on the mob without backup. _Work smart, not hard_...the only piece of advise his father ever taught him before being sent to the Void with all the other scumbags Joker didn't regret dispatching. His black gloves went over a pocket knife in his denim jacket when he heard the van door slide across, revealing a large, stocky man (not really fat, but otherwise big-boned) as he shoved someone inside none too gently. Hearing a woman grunt angrily, her execution hood hit the van's floorboard harder than what was needed.

Seeing the man, Joker relaxed, hand still on the blade for habit sake, rather than defense. He smirked—the scars elongating on the pale disfigured face—when Joe Murklay, one of the first assets to Joker's army, slid in with the grace of a cow on a carriage. The van shifted with the new weight, but Joker found his presence to satisfactory.

The van sat a block from the nearby brawling tavern where the tough guys and promiscuous girls all hung around like the ruffians their mothers and fathers wished for them not to be. Then again, one was born only as bad as their parents...Joker wondered if his father would be happy about his reformation or disgusted—either way, Joker wasn't bothered. The old man was a dead beat anyway—figuratively and literally, speaking.

Joe wore a black shirt, XXL per his size, and it still made his stomach poke out. Baggy pants sported a large rump, and when he sat down, the shift of weight on the van became very obvious that he needed to drop a few pounds. Joker was silent as Joe slid the door shut, then pulled off the newcomer's hood.

"Well, well, well," Joker mused, laughing when the girl looked at him with a ferocity he already admired. "When I told you to select the better ones of the bunch, I didn't expect a beauty pagent, Joe."

Joe gave Joker a look of condescension.

"This one's the real deal, Boss."

"Boss?"

Joker and Joe turned to look at the woman who'd spoken. She had found her voice, hearing the title. Her hair was reddish brunette, soft and fair, lining down her shoulders and back in rough tangles. Dirt covered her cheeks, and there was a black bruise on her right cheek where someone had given her the right hook spot-on. Joker frowned when she laughed derisively.

"And here I thought I was meeting some mob boss, or something," She laughed quietly. Her voice was cynical, mocking him.

"Oh, it's worse." Joe chuckled darkly. And doing so, Joker stooped down to her level, on his knees, and placed the pocket blade right beside her jugular. Instantly, the girl froze, but fear didn't taint her cold glare. Joker found her bravery impressive, but mildly annoying.

"Why'd you bring her here, Joe?" Joker asked plainly, staring her down. She never blinked.

"She's good."

"I doubt that," said Joker, lowering his knife. "She's a woman."

"She's good," repeated Joe strongly.

Joker looked at the woman's cheek, noticing again the bruise. "Did you hit her?" His hand took her chin, making her look the opposite way so he had a better look of her nasty welt.

"Yeah," Joseph replied casually. "She put up quite a fight."

"I'll laugh if that was an initiation," chuckled the woman, her eyes haunting Joseph's with a glint of distaste.

Joker ignored her, turning his head slightly to give Joseph a look.

"I'm not hiring girl scouts," Joker replied sardonically. "If that was the case, I'd nab a few kids on the block and threaten them with detention." He smiled at that. "In fact, that sounds a hell lotta fun. Remind me to do that when we get through."

Joker began to put his knife to this girl's throat again, ready to slash it and be done with the amusement but when he moved the knife, he didn't feel it in his hands. Joker looked at his fingers, seeing that what he imagined had been, unfortunately, correct. Where did he...? He looked at the girl to see she held it in her hand, smirking at him.

"Well..." Joker began, stunned.

"I told you she was good." Joe reminded quietly.

"Why am I here?" she demanded, pointing the knife towards him. She held it steadily; her hands weren't shaking. Joker smirked; she knew what the game was all about.

Joker glanced at the knife warily, then smiled pleasantly. He stood carefully to his feet and sat back on the seat of the van, hands up as though in surrender. He could easily disarm her right now, her eyes switched between Joseph and himself. There were two of them, one of her. Evidently, she saw the odds as well, for she stood on one knee, and laid on the other, prepared to fight if it came down to it.

"Answer me." She whispered seriously. "Or I'll kill you."

Joker raised his eyebrows, saying, "A bit harsh, don't you think?"

"No different than what you'd have done to me if I didn't pick you."

Joker side-glanced at Joseph, whose hands were in the air as well. He seemed more nervous than the boss, but then again, the guy was new, untrained, and inexperienced. Unlike him...unlike this fair woman who turned out to be more than just a fiery brunette. Joker noticed a tense line to her face—she was steady, but there was a emotional, female-driven fear about her.

"True," Joker contended. "But things have changed a bit for your case."

"How so?" asked the girl.

"I'd like someone with your skills; I've never been pickpocketed before, needless to say, on my own territory. I'd slit your throat in a heart beat—there's two of us, one of you. I don't have to tell you that though, of course."

"I can count," She replied cynically.

Joker chuckled. Smart girl, covering her fear with sarcasm.

"What do you want with me?" she demanded. The knife was still held firmly in her hand.

"Your services." Joker replied, smirking at her. He pointed at her. "You have a talent. I'm lacking in a couple of lackeys—I think we could help each other."

"I think you need to help yourself," she responded curtly. "The only thing you offer is crime."

"Crime pays."

There was a soft glimmer of something in her eyes, a familiar reach that Joker saw. She returned guiltily, "The pay off is shit."

Joker chuckled humorously. "How about a treaty?"

"You don't look the type to keep a promise."

"Then a compromise."

She smirked at him, and Joker felt his loins burn. There was something seductive about her, something so dangerously vindictive that if she was given the chance, she'd probably kill him—happily too. She was a professional criminal like him; he saw that her fingerprints were burned...no fingerprints, no identification. Her skill was high enough to pickpocket him of his most prized possession, and she hadn't let her guard down...not even once.

"This conversation is over," she said quietly. "I'm leaving. You follow me, you or your pal here," She glanced vehemently at Joseph who stared at her with awe and anxiously, "I'll end it on the streets."

"I'll need that back," Joker told her, glancing at the knife.

"I doubt it." She replied mysteriously. She climbed out of the van, never once leaving a chance for him to jump on her back and stab her right there. Never once did she have her eyes leave his, and they never did until the van door slid shut. Joker hopped out of the van in time to see her sprinting like a ninja down the streets, zigzagging through the boisterous streets of late day Gotham City.

He'd get the knife back. He always did.


	2. Alias Discovered

Chapter Two: Alias Discovered/ Rules

Joker surveyed the streets for nearly a month, looking for a brunette with mischievous eyes and a raucous smile. All women it seemed were dark-haired, and around rich boys, they always had that kiss at the corner of their lips, curved flirtatiously to any rich bachelor who'd take them home for a night of luxury. Then, they'd be disappointed when they were drop-kicked to the corner, as it was whenever one of them was foolish enough to try and get hitched with the famous Bruce Wayne.

At this point, he'd nearly given up his search, and gone with Joseph Murklay to a brothel just beside the Narrows. Before entering, Joker watched two men, ten feet from where he stood, wrestle over a cup—on it was a beetle, and apparently, this was the valuable treasure each of them longed to eat. Joker grimaced, shaking his head—Bruce Wayne drop-kicked girls out of his Manor and the rest of them were feeding on the scrap of the scraps.

Joseph watched Joker glare at the two homeless wretches—not out of personal spite, but the reverie was all too deep. The stocky henchman didn't even attempt to break his boss out of the depth until the door opened and a man brushed past them rudely, not before strutting half a block away, stepping in a cab with a beautiful girl in it.

The two entered wordlessly, addressing only the bouncer, who let them in when he caught a glimpse of Joker's elusive scarring. A tough man with deep scars could get into a brothel, even if his reputation wasn't well known. And for Joker, he was gaurunteed a drink or two: scars evidently mean the ranking of pain tolerance, and boy, did he have it.

"What's on the special?" Joseph asked one of the bouncers; the latter was dressed in a tuxedo attire, arms crossed over a toned chest. Despite the darkness of the glittering club, he wore shades; his head was receding on the top, proving his age was somewhere around late forties, maybe early thirties with balding genes. Joker noticed the smirk on the bouncer's face.

He jerked a thumb behind him, wearing a perverted grin as he said in a deep, low voice: "Allegra."

Hearing the extravagant name, Joker assumed that this was one of the few good dancers on the podiums that came to awe the crowd. As Joker and Joseph walked down the few stair cases that were only maybe a good five steps at best, they took a table second closest to one of the large, circular stages that were reserved for the best dancing strippers of the brothel. Most of them were well paid, well formed, and while Joker was picky about the ones that would woo him, he found the hooting and hollering around him from the inebriated men abnormally loud for a stripper.

On the microphone, the bouncer's low voice rang saying, "You all know what's coming up, doncha boys!"

The music in the background had began slow and sexy. Joker followed the eyes of the men who were oggling the podium in front of him. Joker chuckled; to think, he thought it was his animal magnetism. The music was a combination of a saxophone and violins of some sort—romantic music by which to feel self-loathing.

"Today, at the House of Arouse, get ready for Allegra Von!"

Joker frowned in annoyance when a man behind him shouted cat-calls in his ear; he merely put a gun behind him and just with that threat alone, the man was out of the bar in a matter of seconds. Joker laughed, completely amused by the whimpy reaction. Some men were just born cowardly.

His laugh stopped when the stripper, dressed in a colorful array of red, black, and white mounted onto the stage. Her brunette hair fell over her well-embossed breasts, which were only covered halfway by a uniform—sexy Queen of Hearts. Joker's eyebrows rose to the height of his forehead when he recognized the half-twisted smile that danced on tempting lips. Her curves were formed in all the right places, and forget the fact that the dark eyes glinted with the same mischief he'd seen before—that Queen of Hearts outfit on her was fabulous...

"It's her!" joseph hissed, making Joker roll his eyes at the obvious.

"I know." Joker returned coolly.

Allegra, as her name was, strutted around the stage; despite a curvy figure, Joker noticed that she had her own flaws reflected in the light, even if it did make her more desirable under flashing disco orbs. Knives were her friend, he could see, for they had marked her easily. She started up the pole, revealing impressive use of zero gravity, muscle definition, grace, and a certain knack for extravagance. Joker felt his pants tighten when she met eyes with him, and the smirk that she sent his direction was clearly only reserved for him.

"She's coming over!" Joseph exclaimed excitably.

Joker was leaned casually with his back against the seat, ankles crossed on the table. She'd stepped off the stage and in a black and white bra with a 'Q' embellished bloodred bikini bottom (g-string—Joker's smile widened), she swaggered over to him.

The music was lost to the other strippers as they partied the floor, but Allegra didn't stop her performance with him. She crawled onto the table, pushed Joker's feet off the table so she sat in place of them, on her knees.

"Look who it is," Joker drawled, chuckling.

"Couldn't stay away?" Allegra inquired seductively. Her voice was low, but alluring. Something about her low timbre...Joker wondered what it would be like hearing her moan for him. Ooh! That was too delicious to think about.

"Actually, I came back for what is rightfully mine." Joker told her. He brought out the gun he'd threatened the obnoxious customer, and aimed it at her.

Instead of panicking, she merely grinned.

"Touche, Killer."

She moved closer towards him and then off the table, straddling his waist with her thighs. Her hand moved to the barrel of the gun which was pointed directly at her heart; her fingers moved over the trigger, to his hand. Joker was shocked at her calm, even more when she lowered his hand down between her legs—the gun pointed there instead. Joker gave her a surprised look.

"You're a hardened criminal," Allegra whispered; he could hear her, despite the loud music. "Guess I should've taken you seriously but can't blame me." She reached behind her and from inside her g-string, she withdrew a pocket knife, pushing the button so it clicked, and out came the sharp half.

Joker half-smiled when she placed it on his scars.

"All the criminals in this town are cheap and only looking for petty thieves, Killer." She told him seductively. "I'm so much more than that." She leaned in so the gun was pushed against her, and she groaned quietly with guilty pleasure. Joker remained stunned at her interesting behavior; her lips were within touching distance.

"I can kill you right now," Joker told her pointedly.

"I have no doubts about that." Allegra replied.

"What makes you think I won't?"

"I don't think that," she replied. She straightened and flipped the knife so the handle pointed at him and she held the blade; Joker looked down when she continued to smile—the blade cut into her hand, bleeding. She had no reaction.

"Are you still hiring?" she inquired quietly.

"Always."

"Care for a plus one?"

"Are you making an offer?"

"In more ways than one." Allegra returned. To prove a second point, she lowered her lips onto his. While brief, it was passionate and raw hunger—Joker almost responded back until he found his loins and put them all back in order. He removed the gun, to his dismay; he liked seeing her hips push against his just for the literal contact of danger, and stashed the weapon in his denim jacket; his hands felt her thighs as she remained on him.

"Hard to say 'no'." Joker drawled.

"Hmm." She acknowledged, smiling. She hopped off him. Joker put his knife in his pocket with his gun, and then to his surprise, he didn't feel a cold pistol in the pocket. He expectantly looked at Allegra, and seeing her wiggle the pistol in front of him, Joker sighed impatiently. He snatched it.

"One rule," Joker told her. "Don't do that again. At least, not to me. If you do, I'll cut off the hand you pick with and shove it down your throat."

Allegra nodded, understanding his terms.

"Is your real name 'Allegra'?" he asked her as she was in normal clothes (Semi-slutty) and sitting beside him.

"No." She returned. "That's my stripper name. What's your name?"

"Joker."

"Is that your real name?"

"What do you think?"

Allegra smirked, saying, "It's an alias. Rule Number Two: We never know one another's real name?"

"Vetoed," Joker replied. He put his hand on her chin, harder grip than what was necessary; she winced, but kept smiling. "Rule Three: I make rules. If you try that again, we're at odds."

" 'A' Okay, Mister J." Allegra returned.

Joker gave her a look of irony, shaking his head, letting go of her chin. She was one odd woman but he liked it this way.


	3. Getting Along

Chapter Three: Getting Along

Disclaimer: This is the first DC of the story, mainly because I forgot. Here. We. Go: I don't own any characters of DC Comic's making, nor am I planning on making a profit on any of this because if I was, I wouldn't be on . I'd be on some other site that doesn't regulate it. Second—the characers, if unrecognizable, are more than likely my own character development. Have a question, PM me and I'll tell you the same thing. This story will have some varied lemons considering it wouldn't be Joker if there wasn't some kind of friction between he and his people.

That said, it's rated M for all chapters, just in case.

Joker, clad in black pants, button-down collared shirt and a black jacket over it, walked on the sidewalks of the lesser busy streets. His eyes were darkened in the pale moonlight, and his hands swung as they pleased at his sides. There was a stroll about his walk, something most people in Gotham were careful not to do—if you strolled, you were mugged. If you ran, you were chased. Simple as that, nothing less.

On his right walked his twenty-four seven right hand man, Joseph Murklay. He wore a dark brown leather jacket over a tee shirt that was two sizes too small for him. His baggy sweat pants nearly dragged the snowy sidewalk, making footprints as though someone was lugging a body around Gotham; maybe someone was, but for Joker, it wasn't today. Joseph walked with a certain lack of confidence; his eyes remained on the ground, never looking up, only following his master's footsteps. He always hung a few steps behind.

Directly to Joker's left was the new recruit. She walked with a bounce in her step, something Joker hardly ever saw in a woman, needless to say, any one of his people. The army he was building was a small operation but they knew just exactly what they were getting into—something dangerous, something very unsettling. The young woman wore low-riding jeans, which were purposely slashed at mid-calf so her combat boots fit more comfortably; the boots laced from her foot to the top in an elegant way. Her shirt hung off her shoulders; one strap of her bra, bright purple, was seen on her left, and Joker found it a consistent bother.

Her name, he discovered, was Allegra...whether it was real or not, he couldn't decipher. She smiled, hummed a little, as she walked directly beside him. Her brunette hair fell as it pleased around her shoulders and down her back; the dark eyes cast mischief to anyone who dared look her way. Joker cleared his throat, making her look at him.

"How long have you been in the under belly of Gotham, kid?" Joker questioned, never looking at her; he made sure to keep his attention on the streets where the bigger boys lurked behind dark alleys. With his appearance, most people didn't approach him, even if they seemed entitled to do so. Her presence caused a slight mishap in his walk—he was not accustomed to people being so loose around him, particularly a woman.

"Five years," she answered lightly. She looked at him. "You?"

"This isn't a conversation, Princess; this is business. I'm interviewing." Joker told her pointedly.

"Ah, gotcha." She replied; ironically, she placed her hand to her head as a salute. Joker gave her a look, and she smiled gently.

"Do you make a habit of mocking people, Allegra?" Joker inquired.

"Not at all." She returned. "But I've learned not to take everything quite so seriously either. What's the fun in that?"

Joker considered her statement being true.

"Joe, keep up—you're getting lost." Joker called to the man lingering behind him. Joseph picked up his pace, now only a few feet from Joker's heels. No longer did he mind his foosteps, Joker was concentrated on Allegra here.

"Have you ever used a gun?" asked Joker curiously.

"Sure."

"Kill anyone with it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Never got to that point," Allegra responded. She sounded uneasy.

_Finally_, Joker thanked the gods above. Finally, some discomfort. Now things were starting to feel normal again. The woman's face tensed to a degree of uncertainty, but not the kind most women gave him. This wasn't an expression of fear; it looked more like disgust.

Joker inclined his head to an alley and they followed suit; ahead of them, past the alley, were three officers of the law, upholders of today's wrecked and corrupt judicial system. He had no business with them, not just yet anyway. Allegra stopped walking when Joker had stopped; he turned to her.

"Ever kill anyone in cold blood?" Joker inquired once more in the same cool voice he used earlier.

"I told you—I didn't kill anyone with a gun."

"I heard," Joker responded impatiently. "I meant with something else, other than the aforementioned." Joker told her.

Allegra looked uneasily at Joseph, whose eyes remained fixed on a curious fly hovering over a pool of spilled milk, spoiled rotten by now as it smelled foul. Joker stepped towards her, holding her chin and forcing her to look at him. Within seconds, he brought out the pocket knife, placing its cold blade on her neck.

"Look at me, not him." Joker commanded irately.

Allegra did as she was told, but the fear had left her eyes; in exchange, she glared at him.

"Trying to prove your a big boy, aren't you?" Allegra dared quietly; Joker raised an eyebrow in surprise, but gnashed his teeth in irritability. He pushed her against the wall, hard enough she exhaled painfully. Then it appeared in her eyes—fear.

"Boss..." began Joseph uncertainly.

"Shut up," Joker snapped, glancing at him dangerously. "Daddy's talking. Stand out of the alley. Keep guard."

Joseph looked at Allegra with an uncharacteristic sympathy and he did as he was told reluctantly. There was a dragging of his footsteps, and then he was out of the situation completely. Joker made a sigh of displeasure; the knife stayed to her throat, but the other dropped to her shoulder, keeping her against the wall.

"You're out of line, Princess," Joker told her firmly. "I don't need to keep you alive—I can find many to replace you; there are many people out on the streets, thanks to Gotham's wonderful mayor and civilized society, who are begging to join with me and make 'em all see the worst in each other."

"So why am I still alive?" Allegra questioned.

"Why? Because I haven't killed you. Not yet, anyway, but your smart mouth remarks are pushing me there." Joker threatened, his voice darkening towards the end. He stepped closer to her. "What good is it having a dog when they don't know how to obey? You simply...put. Them. Down."

Allegra smiled ironically, saying nothing in return. Joker licked his lips.

"You threatened to kill me twice, Allegra. We're alone—why don't you try it again? See if you can actually go through with it." Joker muttered quietly. He brought his lips to her ear. "You never know—it might actually go the way you planned."

Allegra looked at him incredulously. Joker smirked.

"Change of heart?" he asked.

Allegra moved her hands from her sides, to his hips. She pulled him closer to her, their bodies pusing against the other; Joker was caught off guard, even moreso when she made a quick move to kiss him. Their lips compressed and as her tongue danced on his lower lip, he felt her grind against him. Joker pulled away, disbelieving what he'd felt...not so much that...as it was what he'd experienced. Allegra grinned at him, despite the knick on her neck when he'd been thrown off his defenses.

Joker then laughed.

"You're really messed up in the head, aren't you?" Joker told her, stepping towards her again. "Life-threatening situations turn you on?"

"More than that." Allegra replied seductively. She took him by collar of his jacket, pushed him against the wall and kissed him roughly, hard enough it hurt. Her hands made a clean, swift passage as they unbuttoned his shirt with exceptional speed, and then up his bare chest. Joker sighed a breathy laugh, feeling her warm fingers rub over his chest then down his torso; his pants became tight when her hand moved over his erection throbbing from behind.

"You must have had Daddy issues when you were younger," Joker told her typically. He snatched her wrists, holding them at her shoulders. She looked at him pointedly.

"Of course; he died when I was ten."

"Accident?"

"Or so it looked," Allegra whispered remorsefully. Then with a hint of vengeance, she added, "Closed casket."

Joker was impressed again, and boy, did the idea of her slaughtering daddy send his spine tingling.

"So you lied," Joker chuckled. "You said you've only been in the business five years."

"I wasn't a professional then," Allegra stated.

"What, you are now?" Joker inquired sarcastically.

"Why don't you be the judge of that?" the woman purred. Her wrists were restrained, but that didn't keep her hips from pushing against his. Her lips found his, but this time, Joker expected it. Her lips parted for entry, and he obliged. Something teemed of chaos in this woman's voice, the way she acted, moved..._talked_.

"Hardly professional," Joker laughed. "Work relationships never work."

"Then don't be the boss right now." Allegra uttered in mid-kiss. "Be daddy."

"That's complete-ly off-putting," Joker told her, but his body was raging for her.

"Is it?" Allegra returned. She lost her restraints, moving her free hand down his pants, unzipping, and moving her fingers over his open erection. Joker moaned inwardly.

Joker chuckled, "Bad mommy."

"Boss!"

Joker and Allegra stopped their charade of morally loose parenting, and turned simultaneously. Joseph sported a broken arm, and was quickly disposed with a loud gun shot by a man in a black trench coat and fiery red hair. Beside him flanked two men—both large as Joseph, but not equally frightened. In fact, they seemed ready to fight anyone that came in contact. They wore black jeans, tight shirt, and black, fingerless gloves, which cracked as they bared their knuckles and teeth.

Their leader held a pistol in his hand, but when he stepped into the paler moonlight, he looked like the rest of the mediocre criminals that stole purses and robbed fast food joints in the early moon twilight. Joker glanced at his fallen right-hand man, and smiled when the man in the trenchcoat stepped towards them.

"Lookie here, boys—a couple making out after dark." He said in a low imminent drawl. "And his girlfriend's not half-bad looking."

"Wow, I've not heard that before." Allegra stated sarcastically. Joker glanced at her, and saw she wasn't afraid. Instead, a cool smile curved her mischievous lips. She stepped away from him, however, arms crossing and her weight balanced on one leg.

"Your pal was easy to pick off," laughed the redheaded leader. "I should have expected less; I'm kinda disappointed. He was a good stocky fella. But I'm sure if you two would hand over any jewelry or money on ya, we'll leave before we find another reason to dispatch you all too."

"I've never been one for generosity," Joker drawled, buttoning his shirt and zipping his fly.

"Well, we're not accepting charity." Red stated pointedly. He pulled the pistol out to aim at Joker. "If I were you, pal, I'd get on your knees and start giving."

"I'm more of a straight man," Joker mused. "Thanks for the offer, though. I believe that'd be more of my friend's department."

"Oh, wow, thanks," Allegra responded.

"Hey, I'm just pointing out the facts," Joker replied. "You're the woman here."

"You never know," Allegra said to Joker, looking at Red mockingly, "he could be gay. What d'you say, Red? Are you?"

Red looked at his men with a 'wth' look.

"Okay, so we'll stop the chivalry," Red stated impatiently. He aimed the gun at Allegra. "Give me your shit, or you're dead."

Joker watched, impressed yet again, when Allegra stepped forward offering him the gun she'd apparently just picked off him. Inwardly, he growled with some disappointment—how did he keep falling for her kleptomaniacally ways? However, when Red laughed merrily and began to take the pre-offered gun, Allegra smacked the hand that held the pistol; it flipped in the air, then she held it in the other hand, and also the pistol. Red made a move to come after her, but seeing the fire power, he stopped in mid-step.

Allegra tossed Joker's gun to the original owner, and Joker smirked with her skill again.

"Get her boys," Red said.

"Stop, or you're dead." Allegra commanded firmly. She gave the three men a look of contempt and they believed every word.

"She's bluffing," Joker stated.

"I'm not." Allegra said quietly.

Red believed Joker; he stepped forward threateningly towards Allegra. And then she pulled the trigger on his knee. The man went down, screaming and hollering for help. He gave a teary-eyed glare towards Joker and shouted, "You said she was bluffing!"

Joker was damn near on the ground, laughing his ass off. Allegra looked at Red, then turned her eyes on the two other men. They met her impenetrable gaze for a few seconds before they turned on their heel, hauling ass. Red looked up at Allegra with a reaching gaze of sympathy.

"Don't kill me." Red pleaded.

Allegra smiled menacingly. "I'm not killing you. But I'm not saving you either."

Joker chuckled as she began to walk away, putting Red's gun in the back of her pants and pulling her shirt over the barrel. He walked after her, and as they ended the path to the alley, he turned around and shot the man in the back of the head. Allegra didn't so much as glance in his direction when the man's cry died out as the heart ceased to beat any longer.

Joker put his arm around Allegra's shoulders, disarming her.

"You...you are a remark-able woman, Allegra." Joker told her. "I feel that uh you and I are gonna get along _just_ fine."

"If you say so," Allegra replied breathlessly. She put her arm around his waist, and so they walked down Gotham's streets.


	4. How Did Daddy Die

Chapter Four: How Did Daddy Die

A/N: This chapter is rated M for mature content—it's a bit deeper than what I normally write but considering Joker has to have a kindling flame with someone who's just as messed up as he is, this is particularly dark. And excitable at the same time...kinda odd how it worked out. Enjoy, please R&R. And thanks, JoJo1812, for the reviews so far! They keep me going!

Joker and his new traveling companion walked down the sidewalk; his arm around her shoulders, and her arm around his waist. They were the odd pair, the ravenous beauty with sneaking hands, and the scarred homicidal maniac with the virility of a mountain lion. If they had a talking kettle and a whiny tea cup, they'd be one interesting family of misfits. For the most part, they were silent until Allegra piped up. She sounded oddly curious, considering she never bothered showing interest in anything further than their sexual relationship—up until now.

"Where are we going?" asked Allegra lightly, looking at him as they strolled down the sidewalk on the quiet night with the lesser busy streets—quite a few cars rushed around the pavement, and some pedestrians hurried into warmer buildings but otherwise, it was silent. Joker smirked at her, when she offered her curiosity.

"Home is where the heart is," Joker answered vaguely.

"Home is where the _hurt_ is," Allegra corrected coolly. Joker gave her an odd look, and she answered his silent question: "There's a reason why I killed my father."

Joker was sure she would erupt into sobs and stifled tragic talk of how her dad abused her sexually; it happened with a lot of women that Joker tried to recruit; they listened to him because he was a father figure, some paternal figure missing, but otherwise, Joker had no time for sob stories. For the sake of time, he also didn't care. But, as the other few times, Allegra had proven different than most of the recruited women (and ex-communicated). She made a small smile, which didn't reach her eyes.

"No tears?" asked Joker curiously, smirking at her.

She shook her head: "I don't know why people tell me that. He didn't put me in a state more worse than my wares."

Joker chuckled, saying, "Really, now?"

"Well, yeah—I'm with you, aren't I?"

"That hurts," Joker replied sarcastically, looking to his left, away from Allegra when he saw a few men eying them carefully. He merely sent them an equally aggressive glare and they took off to different couple, less vigilant or aggressive-looking. He returned his attention to her. "So what did he do?"

"Who?"

"Your father."

"The usual—molestation, the like."

"And that doesn't affect you?"

"Why should it?" asked Allegra pointedly.

Joker stopped in his tracks. _Seriously_? He looked at her, a bit surprised.

"You're telling me that uh you killed your father but not for abandoning your childhood to whimsy hanky panky," Joker returned, making clear that he had it straight.

She nodded, confirming it.

"If it wasn't that, then why _did_ you slaughter papa?" Joker asked, mocking her with a voice of a good cop that was most understanding, but clearly nosy. He got a reaction finally when Allegra bit her lip uncertainly. Should she tell him? Probably not. Would she? Most likely.

Joker stepped towards her, hand on her face, his thumb lining her jaw. There was a tension in her muscular definition, the mystical frown.

"Why'd you do it, hmm?" Joker inquired, more curious than anything at this point.

Allegra looked at him, searching his eyes but found nothing. She smiled reluctantly when he continued to smile at her—it was contagious. There was a soft glint in her eyes, something of remorse or just a slight hormonal angst (women!), but there was a soft flicker in the darkness of them.

"What made you do it? What was the final straw, huh? You had a _bad_ day, didn't you?" Joker said quietly, his voice deep in a purr, soft like velvet. He could tell he was getting to her; the darkness in her eyes had resolved from tense distress to dilated sexual arousal.

"Bad day," she repeated quietly, as though it was a soft mantra.

"What did he do that was _so_ awful you had to kill him?" Joker asked, grinning at her. "Tell me."

"You really want to know that bad, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Joker purred. He was enjoying this way too much.

"I killed him with a potato peeler," Allegra told him quietly, remembering it as she recalled. "He told me to make dinner for the thirtieth time that month—every day, every meal, no thank-you or any sign of appreciation for what I'd done, or hadn't done. I peeled potatoes for dinner that night. And he asked me to get him a beer. I did...and I brought the peeler with me."

She licked her lips—they became dry as she spoke. Joker noticed her eyes dilating more. He smiled when she stepped towards him, her hands on his arms and they slid up his sleeves and then to his buttoned shirt. Her fingers probed through the material, a slow, montonous torture.

"What then?" Joker breathed.

"He drank the beer, and I waited for him to say a thank-you." Allegra muttered. "When he asked me why I was standing around, called me a whore, and not making him dinner like he asked, I told him we would both be enjoying this dinner for the last time. He looked at me, confused."

"Mmhmm..." Joker mused, smiling wider when she moved her hands lower, just underneathe his torso. Allegra moved even closer, her lips in close distance with his.

"He asked me to make it special," Allegra whispered. "Something he'd never forget, ever. I told him I knew exactly what to do. He stood to his feet, and leaned against the wall..." She moved Joker towards the alley, in which his back collided against the wall as she shoved her lips onto his with enough force to catch him off guard.

In mid-kiss, Allegra continued her story, "I kissed my father on the cheek..." She kissed Joker with her tongue on his scars, leaving a wet trail to his mouth where she kissed him next, "then here..." She moved her hands down his torso, then her fingers trailed over his pants. "Then, here."

"Did daddy like it?" Joker questioned gruffly, his voice deep and ragged. His sexual frustration was becoming a little too overwhelming.

"You tell me..." Allegra mumbled. She dropped on her knees, undid his pants, and then before Joker really could comprehend her intentions, her mouth overtook him. His hands shot behind her head, pulling her hair. A professional in pickpocketing, and maybe her skills extended somewhere else.

Joker felt her mouth take him in whole, her tongue finding a whole new way of communicating. Talk was cheap...This was better. He found himself panting, needing more, moaning for her deeper prolictivities. Boy, she was good...

He came into her mouth when she sucked on him, and she swallowed. Allegra looked up at him, still bent on her knees. Her tongue licked him, as she smiled up at him like a cheshire cat. Joker tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her by the strands; she hissed painfully, wincing...then she met him, eye-to-eye.

"How'd you kill him?" Joker breathed.

He felt a cold blade touch the base of his member, and Joker became exhausted that Allegra kept stealing his knife. Her hands could find his pockets as well as her tongue could find his sweet spots. The steel point touched him briefly, sending chills up his spine and hardening him all over again. Allegra looked at him, eyes flickering with the deepest pools of mischief Joker had ever seen in a woman.

"I took a blade to him," Allegra whispered, her lips breathed on his cheek. She licked his scars. "He cried the entire time." She looked at him pointedly; the blade moved down the length of his exposed member and Joker found this moment more erotic than it might have intended to be. _Kinky_.

"Mmm." Joker lowered his hand to her wrist and quickly disarmed her, taking her arm that held the blade and moved it behind her back; he took the other and placed it with its twin, then brought her on her knees so he stood behind her; Allegra grunted at the sudden tactic, and she winced at the pain of her arms being bent back a little too far.

He lowered his lips to her ear just behind them, saying, "You hold a blade to me again, Allegra—you should use it, or I'll make you cry, until you do."

Allegra grunted when he bent her arms further; he could feel the stress he was putting on her bones, but Allegra was laughing, in spite of it all.

"I hope you do..." Allegra gasped.

Joker let her go and she sighed in pain. She looked around at him, smirking.

"Get up," Joker ordered. "We have work to do."

Allegra got to her feet, and he checked his pockets as he zipped his fly for the second time today. At least he had gotten all the way through before some other idiot interrupted their happy time. He then looked at her pointedly, holding out his hand. Allegra smiled guiltily, handing him his pistol. When he had it in his hands, he smacked the side of her head with it, and she yelped painfully. She merely looked at him with a reproachful gaze.

"Don't take Daddy's things," Joker scolded, waving the gun at her.

Allegra smiled, rubbing the side of her head. He made an inclination of his head for her to come back to him and she happily put her arm around his waist. He put his arm around her shoulders and they continued down the sidewalk.

"You never said where we are going," Allegra reminded him.

"I did—we're going home." Joker told her.

"Have I ever told you what happened to my father?" Allegra said, smiling at him sardonically.

"I'm willing to hear the story again when we find someplace warmer," Joker returned knowingly. "But in the meantime, I'll tell you the story about how I got my scars..."


	5. Helping the Homeless

Chapter Five: Helping the Homeless

A/N: Thank you for your reviews; this story caught on quicker than I thought it would! Plenty more of goodies to come! As usual, R&R b/c I love writing this story as much as you love reading it! :D

(())

The night was getting cooler, more than usual. It was around November, maybe in the middle of the month, considering the Thanksgiving décor for Gotham was being set up on the street lamps and pushed into people's skulls with advertisements of soon-to-be Black Friday. Most of everything was going on sale, and it would be calamity. Joker figured it was maybe a week before Thanksgiving—the decorative scarecrows were put on street side corners, and the hay bales seemed to asexually reproduce over night. The walk on the sidewalks was more isolated for a night on the streets; Joker noticed there were not so many pedestrians; at this point, it was probably reaching into late night...maybe eleven.

It was disturbing to him that some of the richer folk from Gotham uptown had lingered downtown for a spree on the comings and goings of the black market, which was regularly seeping through the sewers. One could tell who sold the blackest of sales—they always walked with black cloaks, which were armed with guns, gold tokens, illegal herbs, and ruby slippers. Joker noticed a classy man, dressed in a tuxedo, walking suspiciously to the alley; his hand never left his pocket, where surely a gun was stashed in case some poor soul decided to mug him for a few pieces of silver and a pretty watch.

Less people lingered on the streets—they were reaching the outskirts of Gotham. An hour from where Joe Murklay's body now laid in mud and passing dust in the alley, Joker and his equally disturbing companion, Allegra Von, were walking the abandoned pavement of Gotham's desert. Not many ventured this far from the central line—Joker could only assume it was because the happy spirit didn't always trail on cracked, faded pavement, broken street lamps, and disintegrated morality.

"No tumbleweeds," Allegra stated humorously. It was the first time she spoke within the last thirty minutes; Joker looked at her.

"Sorry?"

"No tumbleweeds," she repeated, pointing to the ghost town ahead of them. "Not even cacti."

"What's your point?" Joker asked.

She looked at him strangely, saying, "There was a point?"

Joker smiled at her saying, "You are too precious."

They walked quietly down the road. A passing car looked at them suspiciously—the two pedestrians walked carelessly and the girl wasn't the least bit skittish. It made the people in the car watch Joker and Allegra with wary eyes, but they passed without much trouble. Joker was somewhat grateful for it; he was making good time for now, and nothing could slow them down more than a pair of wrongly timed misfits.

Joker stopped temporarily when a man popped out of a dumpster, which was covered in slimy contents, open and broken boxes of newspaper clippings, and soiled diapers. The man mumbled something to himself, talking in his own self-loathing, complaining. He appeared homeless...obviously. There were dried tears on his face, and his hair was tangled in a neck-length mess of mane; in the curly brown locks was dried gum and used tissue bits. He looked absolutely disgusting. People would give him a wide berth if he ever got out of the dumpster—looking at his clothes, Joker doubted the man ever remotely stepped out of it, never the less walked on the sidewalk.

Joker put his hand out for Allegra to stop walking. She did in mid-step. Her attention was drawn to the homeless man when he started getting out of the dumpster; she eyed him carefully, making sure that there was no gun in his hand. Even if he did have one though, he'd be more ready to use it on himself than on a man with disfigured cheeks and his beautiful girlfriend.

The man fell on the ground when he had gotten out of the dumpster; he started cursing under his breath, picking himself up off the ground when grubby hands, which were stained with something most fowl looking. It didn't look like dirt.

He seemed to be in his own little world before he looked up and saw Joker and Allegra walking carefully towards him. The caution was lost when Joker saw him unarmed.

"Come to laugh at me again, huh?" The hobo asked grumpily. "Don't. I'm in no mood."

"You're not worth my chuckles," Joker told him seriously. He gave him a once-over look. "What are you doing in there?" He indicated the dumpster.

"Why else would I be in there?" asked the hobo unhappily. "I'm homeless."

"Do you wanna die?" asked Joker, straightforward.

Allegra smiled at him, noticing the business tone. Joker began to pull a gun out from behind him. The hobo looked at him, suddenly wrought with fear, even more when the man with scarred cheeks grimaced disdainfully. Knowingly, he turned to the dark brunette.

"Give it to me."

The brunette smiled at him, and handed him the fire power he'd been prodding his back, trying to find it. Joker took the gun she offered him, and gave her a sharp smack across the face with the handle. Allegra grunted, falling to the floor, holding her face painfully. The bum simply looked at them, in between fearful and concerned for the woman, and hateful to the man.

"What did I say about taking Daddy's things, hm?" Joker scolded, not at all sorry for the welt that was left on her face as she looked up at him.

"Sorry. Bad habits." Allegra replied, still holding her face but the smile wasn't subtle. She didn't even try to hide her mischievous giggle.

"One more time," Joker told her quietly, pointing the gun at her. He then turned to the bum, who stared at them incredulously. Joker stepped towards him. "Sorry about that—she's a bit of a pistol."

"I can see that," the bum uttered uncertainly. He looked at Joker. "Who are you?"

"That's a good question; some are trying to figure that out, but for now, you can call me 'Joker'."

"Joker?" repeated the bum.

"Yes; and this is Allegra." Joker stated, indicating the woman behind his back.

"Huh," the man uttered, still wide-eyed at the couple.

"I'll make it simple for you," Joker stated pointedly. "I'm actually a bit late for a housewarming party, and for that matter, this one hasn't made it any easier" (he glanced at Allegra) "but it would cheer me up exponentially if you would uh be my plus-one."

"Plus one?"

"For the party," Joker stated. "It's an open in-vi-tation."

"Why would I want to come to a party?" the homeless man inquired.

"I'm sorry, do you have other plans?" Joker asked politely.

"Well, not really..."

"Good." Joker returned happily; he pointed the gun at him. "Then you can come along."

"Are you going to kill me?"

"That depends," Joker answered. "Do you want me to kill you?"

"Kinda."

Joker stared at this man with the glee of a kid receiving a puppy for a birthday.

"Well, then, you'll fit right in," Joker laughed, smiling at the homeless man.

"Are you part of a cult? Like mass suicide..." asked the man uncertainly, kind of creeped out as Joker put his arm around him.

"Oh, you're a guy after my own heart," Joker chuckled. "Trust me, kid, this isn't suicide. This is_ just-i-fi-cation_, for all the wrong that's been done to you, and really everyone else. People think Gotham is bad now, well, they're about to see it can get a hell lot worse. And I'll show them. But not at first...

"No, no, no, see I'm a business man; I'm currently hiring right now. And you've just been placed under my tutillage."

The man grinned—it suited his face.

"I _have_ been looking for some work," the man stated reasonably, as though convincing himself more than putting in his resume.

"That's convenient," Joker drawled, enunciating the ending 't' with some emphasis. "What's your name? I've gotta call you something, _anything_."

"Specs."

"Specs?" repeated Allegra, who had gotten to her feet. She smiled, in spite of the painful welt on her face. "That's an odd name."

"I used to have glasses," the man commented generously.

"Fascinating," Joker returned, although he sounded bored. He gestured for Allegra to hurry up and follow them, and Allegra did so; she put her arm around his waist. Joker felt her hand drift below his waistline—he merely looked at her for a second, and the ear-to-ear grin engulfed her entire face; her bright, purely whites practically shimmered in the moonlight. That mischievous grin...

Specs looked at them curiously—clearly perterbed by the chemistry between the couple.

Allegra teased him with a peck on his cheek, then she skipped ahead of them, doing cartwheels. Joker watched, his eyes narrowed at her. He could hit her all he wanted but her seduction of him was flawless and corrupting.

"She's pretty," Specs noted quietly.

Joker looked at him, pointing his pistol at the homeless man, saying dangeroulsly, "And unavailable". Joker noticed Specs watching Allegra with the wandering eyes, taking a perverted glance at the cartwheeling temptress ahead of them;

Specs nodded quickly, immediately understanding the boundaries. Joker smiled at him, happy that everything was understood, then put his gun away, stashing it in the back of his pants. He noticed a surprising thing about Allegra's flexibility when she stopped at a hand stand and very gracefully, her legs dropped a 180 right behind her head. Joker chuckled to himself—along with being a cat-quiet pickpocket, Allegra was very bendy.

"Gotta thank God for makin' things like that," Joker uttered to himself.


	6. Steak With a Side of Jello

Chapter Six: Steak with a Side of Jello

A/N: Rated M for suggestive material and a little foul language. :) Review as always, thank ya! (Happy Hand Grenades!)

(())

Specs followed wordlessly behind Joker and Allegra, who'd stopped her flipping after she had nearly fallen backwards on a random thorn bush, which was barely alive but still seemed to be nothing short of a painful collision, with its pointed leaves and branches. Joker had damn near pissed himself with laughter as she sprawled on her back, avoiding it but making a fool of herself with such a clumsy landing. Specs concealed his smile, uncertain as to how Joker would perceive the humor—Specs couldn't figure either of them out. Their relationship was rather an odd one.

Allegra walked beside him after that silly incident.

"Are we there yet?" asked Allegra.

"Almost."

"You've said that the last four times," she stated pointedly.

"Yes, and it'll be several more times when you ask every five minutes," Joker responded.

"I'm looking for a different answer."

"You're looking in the wrong place," Joker returned, amused.

Allegra shook her head, choosing not to egg him on. She looked behind at Specs, who was walking quietly.

"Why do you want to die?" asked Allegra curiously.

"That's a bit personal," Joker told Allegra calmly.

"I want to know," Allegra replied. "There's always a story to be told, and I want to hear his."

"I don't," Joker proclaimed, tossing a hand towards her. "I couldn't care less."

"Then don't listen," she returned coolly. She looked at Specs who was eying both of them carefully. "Come on, dear, I'll listen. Tell me why you want to end your life. At least when you do, _someone_ will know."

Joker rolled his eyes. He didn't want to hear any backstory on anyone that worked for him. Everyone had that bad day that caused them to go mad, a little nutty, out there, and maybe even a bit insane. Joker knew that everyone had a sob story that, when told, it would briefly allow the world to pity them for a few minutes until it realized that their life could revert to such a sad status as well—homeless, unemployed...then the people that used to care for them would no longer give a damn, so the pitying souls would stop pitying in the first place.

However, Allegra was insistent so Specs, who frowned with empty sorrow, finally spilled his story to Allegra, who (as promised) listened to him wholeheartedly.

Joker heard a few facts about Specs—his wife left him, his daughter hated him, and the house was lost in overdue mortgage payments and since Specs had flirted with a female co-worker, the job tossed him out, and so was the sad fact about him. Joker figured as much.

"You poor man," Allegra pitied. She hugged the smelly bastard, then Specs smiled at her thankfully.

"Thanks for listening," Specs uttered with embarrassing gratefulness.

"No problem," Allegra returned. She walked quicker to catch up with the boss.

"I don't know why you insisted on hearing it—they're all the same," Joker stated.

"Not all of them."

"Most of 'em," Joker returned. "And you're soft to think his spin of tales matters at all."

"It _does _matter."

"_Hardly_."

"I'd listen to your past," Allegra told Joker sweetly.

Joker looked at her, saying, "If I'm going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple-choice. It's gotten to a point where I don't know what's real or fraudulent. Personally, I prefer it that way, considering I don't have to repeat the same old wise tale to win your heart, Allegra."

"You don't have to win anything," said Allegra.

"You sure about that?" Joker responded, smirking at her. "You seemed _aw-fully_ preoccupied earlier with _him_." He jerked his thumb at the man following them.

"I don't care about him," said Allegra with genuine honesty. Her voice extended to indecent apathy.

"Then why listen to his story?"

"Because people like him need to let out their feelings," said Allegra gently. She touched where her heart would be, "If this doesn't get a release, this" (she touched her head) "Goes nutty."

"I'm betting on it— besides, I don't need or wish to hear stories, Allegra. Quite frankly, it makes me puke. At any rate, the past makes people stronger—if you ask me, enough didn't happen to him.

"That's a little crude."

"It's life," Joker responded. "It's a bad joke. It toughened me up, Allegra. It'll toughen him up," Joker stated. "My business isn't for soft piles of jello, Bunny."

"You could be a soft pile of jello if you allowed yourself to be one," Allegra offered, smiling at him.

Joker stopped walking, and looked at her. A split second later, he had her throat in his hand, proving a point that there was no room in his humored personality to occupy a cabin full of jello.

"You're not jello!" Allegra gasped, trying to wrench his hand off her neck.

He released her, and Allegra stood up, looking at him breathlessly as she rubbed her throat.

"I'm glad I've proven my point," Joker stated, rubbing his hands with accomplishment.

Allegra looked at him and then at Specs, who was walking past them, shoulders hunched, slack jawed, and his eyes never looked up once to see if he was walking into someone or something. He lacked any amount of confidence.

"At this point, I prefer you not to be jello." Allegra stated, turning her attention to Joker.

"Oh really? That was a quick change of mind," Joker laugh, crossing his arms.

"If that's jello..." Allegra pointed her eyes at Specs then turned to Joker, "I'd rather have portside steak." She stepped towards him, hands tethering his shirt; she pulled him to her, and her mouth welcomed his happily. Joker returned the hungry kiss. He was surprised when Allegra bit his lower lip, drawing blood. She smirked at him, pulling away.

Joker sighed patiently, and said quietly, "You did it again, didn't you?"

Allegra waved the pistol at him, doing a small seductive dance—her stripper occupation went with her no matter where she'd go.

"Give it to me." Joker ordered coolly.

Carefully, Allegra did so, making sure to dodge whenever he tried to hit her again.

(())

Five minutes later, Joker stopped Specs and Allegra at a broken down but clearly still operatable house. It was lit with dimmed lights and as they entered, it was clearly inhabitable. Joker closed the door after himself when Specs and Allegra walked inside; the lamps were on, and voices echoed from the basement. The living room, kitchen, and dining room looked comfortable and inviting—typical home setting with couches, coffee table, television set, and a working oven. The heat was inviting.

"Shower is upstairs," Joker told Specs, who smiled more than happily. He sped up there as though a whipping domineer was right behind him.

Joker looked at Allegra.

"Stay." He said.

Allegra nodded obediently.

Joker descended down to the basement, and after a few moments, allegra stepped towards the door, hearing the conversation downstairs. Joker was obviously the leader of the pack, a top-dog, alpha-male leader. When he spoke, the laughing and boisterous conversation dwindled to nothing. He mentioned something about new recruits and making them feel welcome and then a smaller mentioning of the 'girl'. Naturally, he was talking about Allegra—she was the only woman, currently.

Joker walked back upstairs and saw Allegra standing at the doorway, smirking at him.

"Do I get to meet them?" asked Allegra eagerly.

"Not just yet," Joker returned. He put his arm around her waist. "They're going to get acquainted with Specs, then I'll introduce you to them. They're uh...a bit too friendly when it comes to female coworkers."

"So put them in their place," Allegra told him. "Beat 'em with a rod."

Joker smirked, saying, "I thought you preferred it that I be softer on them."

"Fuck, no. That's my department," Allegra returned. "Someone has to keep the children in line."

"I didn't realize we were playing House." Joker stated, sitting on the couch; he put his feet up on the coffee table, and Allegra took a seat on his lap. She straddled his waist, placing her thighs on either side of his. Joker watched her with a pleasant smile on his face. She couldn't keep her hands off him.

"I'm Mom, you're Dad," Allegra told him softly; the grin on her face was impish.

"Daddy's tired," Joker sighed.

"Momma's frisky." Allegra returned. She lowered herself on him, pushing her hips against his so she could feel his growing erection. Her lips brushed along his ear lobe, and her tongue nipped at his neck. Joker sighed pleasurably; his hands moved up her thighs to her lower back, lifting her shirt so he felt her soft skin...she danced slowly in small circles. He hardened under her tormenting dance.

"You're a horny little bunny," Joker told her quietly. "There's a time and place for everything, Pet—this isn't one of them."

As he said it, the door to the basement opened and five men walked out—three of them were muscularly defined. One was portly, and a smaller one was really skinny. One of the stockier fellas wore a bandana over his head with biker glasses; he looked older with five o'clock shadow and salt-and-pepper colored hair. The smaller one was really young, maybe late teens.

"What the..." began the smaller one.

"Hush, Kyle—just keep walking," the biker one said briskly. Doing what he said, the small one—Kyle-grumbled under his breath up the stairs. The biker glanced at Joker, who met his gaze; they made a simple nod to each other and the biker pushed the other four men up the stairs, making sure they didn't stare. The teenager was doing his best not to oggle at the dancing woman's behind—one look at the boss' growing glare and the teenager was quick to disappear.

Allegra had stopped dancing when she looked behind to see the five men watching her dance on their boss, and the smile disappeared briefly as they did up the stairs. Joker was a bit disturbed—he hardly saw a frown on this woman's face, and now that he did, he was a bit disappointed. She looked at Joker.

"The young one is cherry jello," Allegra stated with a loose grin.

Joker looked at her with an amused smile, saying, "That, he is. Care to hear his sob story, too?"

"Not really." She leaned down on him, arms crossing over his chest like a little kitty. "I'm still waiting for my steak."

"The butcher is away," Joker returned smoothly. He took her hips and moved her off him. "Leave a message after the beep."

"Beeeeep," Allegra mewed, smiling at him.

Joker shook his head—she was an odd character, indeed.


	7. Wrong Answers

Chapter Seven: Wrong Answers

Author's Note: Rated M for coarse language...very coarse. It's hilarious! XD

Allegra's head teetered between Joker's shoulder and the crook of his neck. Her hair onto one shoulder, creating the luminous image of a dangerous mermaid. Joker briefly looked at her disposition, more annoyed than anything, as he turned his eyes to the television set, hitting the power button on the remote so as to watch the news.

News anchorman of Gotham Central News was their own, Mike Engel. An older man with grayed hair and a rectangular face, Mike Engel was reading the report for the tonight's weather, then went onto something more interesting. Joker's eyes narrowed at the picture of a woman's mug shot that looked deeply familiar—exactly like the woman who lied so comfortably on his shoulder.

The mug shot had a beautiful woman in the frame, holding a sign of a random number. Side and front view shots were being posted along the screen as information scrolled along the bottom with more detailed information about the woman's appearance, and lack of presence in Gotham's under belly. Her hair was cut short, pixie, like a messy Pat Benatar rockstar look; make-up smeared her eyelids and the identical sheepish smile engulfed her face from ear-to-ear.

"Tonight, police are baffled as Vanessa Davenheart was reported missing after leaving the brothel, House of Arouse, last night. Working part-time as a stripper and a barmaid, Davenheart's disappearance has caused some alarm from the managers and employees. Anyone who has any information of her whereabouts are urged to contact the number provided below..."

Joker smirked, particularly at the woman who lied on his shoulder. A few hours later, the news was back on, and Engel was back on the trademark of Vanessa Davenheart.

"Thank you for your calls, citizens of Gotham. At this point, we are uncertain as to where Miss Davenheart is currently hiding. Police say she is highly dangerous, manipulative—arrested in the past two weeks for possession, grand theft auto, larceny, breaking and entering, and the recent case of patricide, Davenheart is considered armed and dangerous. Anyone who has any information about Davenheart should call the local authorities, and report any theft immediately—no matter how serious."

Joker's eyebrows raised. He smirked again as Allegra (or rather, Davenheart) unawarely moved. Her hands that were recently on her stomach moved so that one held his thigh. He gave it a cool glance before returning his attention to the television.

"Gotham is to be advised that Vanessa Davenheart is currently at large; she has gone by many other names, the following is but not limited to her possible aliases: Vanessa Davenheart, Allegra Von, Clarice Starling, Diana, LeeAnn Rimes, Queen of Hearts, and Selina Devyonne. Anyone who has any information or knowledge of her location, please contact the number provided below."

Engel consistently repeated this message throughout the broadcasted shows, and Joker found it montonous after a while. Allegra could be any of those names, but Joker found it disturbing that she was using the same alias (in some ways) like him. He glanced at his female accomplice and saw that her eyes were open, watching the news reporter cast her ominous identical over the international line.

"I had no idea," Joker drawled, "that I was dealing with a celebrity."

"Don't patronize," Allegra mewed, sitting up. She crossed her arms. "It's not my fault people are catching on."

"It's hard to forget a beautiful face," said Joker smoothly. He turned so he faced her completely, taking her chin in his hand so she looked from the television to him. He half-smiled, adding, "What _is_ your name?"

"Now," Allegra purred, "you should know better than anyone else that I'm not going to give you my real name. Why should I have just one when I can have _Several_?"

"A woman who won't level with me," Joker told her quietly, "is a woman I can't trust."

"Trust is a two-way street," Allegra responded carefully. Joker and Allegra remained in a heated battle of eye contact before Joker stroked her cheek with side of his thumb. She looked at him, searching his eyes for an answer he didn't give so easily.

"'Grand theft auto, breaking and entering, patricide, grand larceny'...you have quite the rap sheet, doncha, Bunny?"

Allegra smiled uneasily saying, "Girl's gotta eat."

"Oh, it's more than just that, _Allegra_. You shop and throw half of it away, am I right?" Joker purred, his voice like silk. He touched her jaw line, tracing the mandible structure like she was a pet kitty cat; she moved her head so she played, literally, right into his hand, grazing her lips over his palm.

"Five finger discounts," Allegra mewed with a mischievous smile. "They're practically _free_."

She snatched the remote from his hand like she was a sudden blur, and then turned off the TV with a simple click. Joker gave her a death stare—he hadn't finished listening to the news.

"You really want to know my name?" asked Allegra lightly.

Joker grinned sheepishly saying, "Yes."

"What would you give me in return?" asked Allegra.

"Are we negotiating?" Joker laughed.

"Always," she replied smoothly.

Allegra got to her knees and without any subtle warning, her hands moved to his neck and she kissed him gently at first, then the kiss became hungry and urgent. Her lips sucked his bottom lip, her tongue tracing the beginning of his scars; he found her tongue and followed it into her mouth. Joker moved his hands behind her back, moving them further on the couch; the soft moan she exhaled danced behind her lips.

"Aileen."

"I'm sorry?" Joker looked at her pointedly.

"My name," Allegra muttered. "It's Aileen."

Joker smirked at her. "Is it really?"

"No," Allegra returned. "But you almost believed it." She grinned at him.

Joker shook his head, but kissed her harder. For some reason, he didn't know, the mind games she pulled were out of order, random...chaotic. It threw him off, nothing like he'd ever been disarmed with and this excitement was a bit more than what he'd bargained for when he hired Allegra.

Her hands moved down wind of his shoulders, over his jeans. Joker manuvered his fingers down her back, over her tight bottom, then under the front of her shirt. He felt scars along her belly, knife wounds, gun shots, and then her breasts...she wore no bra.

"What's the occasion?" Joker drawled, smirking at her.

Allegra moved her head up to kiss him and after she flicked her tongue over his lips, she drawled seductively, "I always come prepared." She pushed her hips up to his. Joker groaned, feeling her ever so brief dance cause the worst stirrings below.

He growled deep in his throat, and Allegra smirked at him, eyes filled with dark pools of adoration and, even more, lust.

From above them, a fight had broken out. Yelling could be heard.

"GET OFF HIM, BEAR!" shouted a high-pitched voice.

"I'VE HAD IT WITH HIS SHIT!" shouted back a large, bellowing voice.

"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING, I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" a whiny voice pleaded painfully.

Then it all came downstairs, quite literally when a rather chubby fellow clumsily fell down the stairs to avoid a large, black man who was baring teeth and clenching tight fists of fury. Shortly behind him, the teenager, Kyle, was running down the stairs, hopping a few steps, and right behind _him_, the biker dude was on the chase. Gathering up the caboose was a tall, lumbering fella who had it all in the brawn but the way his eyes shifted was like he was either paranoid or a bit mentally handicapped.

The portly fellow ran from the stairs and his fat stomach bounced unattractively; he managed to get behind the coffee table before the big black man could run his foot up his ass. Allegra was still on her back even as Joker got off her, glaring at the five of them.

"What the hell is going on!" Joker bellowed, stepping off the couch.

"He's going to kill me! He's going to kill me!" the portly man cried.

"Oh shut up, Victor!" the biker snapped irritably. "Bear isn't going to kill you; he's going to kick your ass so we don't have to!"

Allegra sat up, looking between Bear, the black man and Kyle, the kid. The portly man was Victor. And the biker one, as Allegra listened, was named James. Then Lenny, who looked to be either paranoid or slow, walked between the crying Victor and Bear, who was threatening to tear the former into chicken nuggets.

"Guys, stop fighting!" Lenny cried. "We won't solve anything with violence!"

"It'll solve everything!" Bear growled. He pointed accusingly at Victor, saying angrily, "I've had it with his shit; I've heard nothing but this bitch whine about how we never go anywhere. He wants to whine about it, I said he can take it up with the boss! But no, he'd rather sit and complain all fucking day. Well, I'm done hearing it! Come here, you fat tub of..."

"_Bear!_" Lenny shouted uncertainly.

"Yeah, man, it's not worth it!" Kyle said uneasily.

Joker looked between all of them, then calmly turned towards the large one, Victor.

"Do you have something to tell me?" Joker inquired in an eerie calm tone.

"N-no."

"Really?" Joker asked. "Because Bear thinks otherwise." He looked at the heavy breathing man. "What's going on?"

"He's a fuckin' whiner, that's what's on, Boss," Bear stated. "Little bitch can't take the pressure of hiding out. He wants a raise, he wants a vacation—he wants a big roast, well, I tell ya what, I can give him one." He cracked his knuckles. "Right in the mouth!"

"Language," Joker stated calmly. He gestured to Allegra. "Lady's present. Not much of one, but she's still female."

"Ah, thanks," Allegra stated pointedly, her sarcasm obvious.

Then it seemed as though everyone realized she actually existed. Bear looked ashamed for his language and smiled sheepishly as he stepped back, away from Victor, who somehow was able to manage a forced calm, pretending to be this cool guy since the female was there. Kyle looked braver, but the fear in his eyes of Bear's enormous demeanor made him weaker in comparison. James, the biker, seemed unaffected by the call to Allegra's presence. He was still seemably irritable although, with Joker involved, he looked less inclined to enforce violence. They knew the rule—Joker was King.

"Look listen—I'm trying to rest," Joker stated coolly. "It's hard to do that when you kids are constantly fighting. I don't have the patience..." He pulled out the gun from behind his back, "to deal with your little quarrels. Grown men—except Kyle, here—fighting over...why exactly are you fighting again?"

"His shit," said Bear, annoyed. "Complainin' about how we don't go out, or how we don't do anything or rob banks. He's always talking about robbing banks—bank, bank, bank! Who fuckin' cares about fuckin' banks with the damn money and shit! I just wanna live it up right here and now—and if it means kickin' his ass, well, hell, I can't think of anything better!" Bear said happily, smirking nastily at Victor, who cowarded under his stern gaze.

Joker clicked his tongue, looking at Victor.

"You are always the cause of all these _problems_." Joker mused calmly. "Are you dissatisfied, Vicky?"

Victor frowned at the nickname but didn't protest—it seemed at this point not to aggravate the Joker after cockblocking the second round. At any rate, his eerie calm put them all on the edge.

"What do ya want from me, huh, Vicky?" Joker asked. "I have you a roof over your head, food in your big belly, and enough friends to go around ya, more than you ever had in high school, I'm sure."

Victor was silent. Just as well, the looks he was sending Allegra's beautiful figure had nothing to do with the matter at hand. Allegra frowned at him. Joker noticed the gaze, following Victor's attention to the lovely klepto, who stood carefully on her heeled boots. She walked over to him.

"See something you like, _Vicky_?" asked Allegra coolly.

"Uh..." Victor responded uncertainly.

"Say 'no'!" Kyle hissed.

"Hush, kid!" James and Bear snapped under their breath. They all stepped back—away from Victor. Allegra rounded on the man with a coarse smirk, and Joker watched, entertained...and waiting.

"Uh..." Victor repeated incoherently.

"Do you like to stare at things that don't belong to you?" asked Allegra.

"Well..." Victor began uncertainly.

"This is what you call a lose-lose situation, Vicky," Allegra mewed. "Either answer you provide, your answer will be wrong. Do you know why that is?"

"Uh..."

"It's because I'm a woman," Allegra finished. "I don't like you so no matter what answer you give me, I'll hate it. And I'll hate you. Scientists say that a woman can make up her mind whether or not she likes a person within the first seven seconds of meeting them. What do you think, Vicky?"

"Uh..." Victor muttered. He cleared his throat, finding his voice. "I...I think you are pretty..."

"Well, see, that's nice coming from him," Allegra returned, glancing at Joker, who smirked at her performance. "And that'd be even better coming from a complete stranger, but from you...it's disgusting. It's gross, and even insulting. You know why?"

"Because you're a woman?" Victor offered, hoping it was the right answer.

"Wrong answer." Allegra stated. She took Joker's gun from his hand in a split second, pulled the trigger, and shot Victor in his right knee. The man went down in seconds, shouting in pain. Joker snatched the gun from her hands.

"Oooh kay, gun privileges have just been revoked," Joker stated, looking at her pointedly. "You don't like the man, I get it, but you can't shoot my employees, Allegra."

Allegra smiled at him.

"Sorry, hon. I think my finger just slipped." She looked at her index finger. "Hmm."

Allegra kissed him on the cheek, then told Bear, James, Kyle, and Lenny good night without so much as a remorseful tear. Then towards Joker's bedroom she went.

Joker looked after her, eyes blinking with surprise and subtley impressed. His eyebrow quirked upwards; he found her spontaneous violent moments very seductive. The way to his heart was violence and chaso—she was taking the yellow brick road right to it.

Bear and James were grinning happily, while Kyle looked a bit disturbed. Lenny looked after her with a dopey smile. Joker saw the look he'd given after her but Joker knew Lenny well...the boy would only do what his master allowed. And it was clear that whether Joker had made the rule or not, Allegra Von was off limits; she had only eyes for him.


	8. Deserved It

Chapter Eight: Deserved It

"Ointment, tweezers, gauze, alcohol..." listed Kyle as he read off the items written down on a piece of paper made from the Joker—all the items to heal a gun shot wound. Kyle brushed a sweaty hand through thick neck-length locks of blonde as he glanced uncertainly at Victor's leg, which was sitting on the coffee table, ready to be dissected. Biker man, James, had tied an apron around his large waist while snapping on a pair latex white gloves, taking the tweezers from the surface and pinching them with preparation, sterilizing it with alcohol.

Victor whimpered as he held the thigh of his wounded knee, cursing Allegra's name with different others that were not exactly flattering. Sweat drizzled down his back, neck, and forehead, creating pit stains and collared tears. His eyes bled with shame as he bit the piece of wood placed between his choppers, provided by Kyle.

Kyle sat beside Victor, who was whining and bawling as James stuck the tweezers inside the kneecap, digging for a few agonizing seconds before pulling out the bullet clean. He dropped it on the provided paper towels which were splattered with red ooze. On the other side of Victor was Bear, who held Victor's arms from lashing desperately at the biker who was going about fixing the wound with little mercy.

The teenager frowned with disgust, and held back the urge to vomit when James began wrapping the wound with ointment covered bandages and gauze. Meanwhile, Victor cried like a baby, never stopping, always that loud, incessant, forever whining screech. When the worst had passed, Joker, who'd been watching emotionlessly, stepped forward from the wall he'd been leaning against and walked over to Victor. The man observed the wound carefully.

"How long before recovery, James?" asked Joker seriously.

"It'll take a long time," James answered vaguely.

"I figured that but—_how_ long?" Joker asked.

Bear chuckled ominously, saying, "Very."

Joker smiled at his humor but Victor cursed at them both.

"I'm in pain and all you can think about is..."

"Actually," Joker interrupted calmly, "I'm thinking about more than just your scratch, Victor. In fact, I'm thinking that I should put you in the front lines next time we go hit up a bank for a _loan_ since you have shown incredible eagerness for the job."

"But I'm wounded—thanks to that..that..."

Bear slapped the back of Victor's head, saying, "Finish that insult, Piggy, and you're gonna be whining about both knees."

"But she shot me!"

"You deserved it," Kyle muttered. "You shouldn't have answered her."

"Looks like we have a graduate," Joker laughed, smirking at Kyle then at Victor. "I'm not sure you and Allegra were properly introduced."

"Ha!" Victor laughed hysterically. "Her shit is all over national television, boss!"

"Just as well, I'd think you know better than to answer a woman's rhetorical question," Joker mused knowingly.

"Yeah," laughed Bear. "She'd have shot you no matter what you said."

"How's that funny! That's not funny!" Victor cried, whimpering about his wounded knee.

"Not to you," Joker responded seriously. "But that's the joke." He looked at Bear and James. "Get him upstairs, get him cleaned up. Give him a pain killer or something."

"Thanks boss." Victor said gratefully.

Joker smiled saying, "It's not for you. It's for us. Your crying is gonna keep me up all night, and i'm _very_ tired."

Victor didn't feel too important after that.

"What are you gonna do to her?" asked Kyle quietly.

Joker looked at him. "Who?"

"Her." Kyle uttered even quieter, nodding to Joker's bedroom where Allegra had gone.

"Absolutely nothing," Joker returned as Bear and James carried Victor up the stair case. "I've been meaning to pull the same trick on Vicky for a long time but nothing really gave me a reason to—other than me just feeling like it. Now that Allegra has done it for me, I think I oughtta give her a gold star."

Kyle smiled bracingly; before the Joker could do the same to him, the boy quickly followed the men upstairs, hoping the same idea hadn't occurred for his fate. Meanwhile, Victor was screaming bloody murder in agony. When joker closed the bedroom door, exhausted by the endless suffering of his employee, he turned on the light and saw Allegra lying on the bed. Her eyes were closed, her lips curved in a natural smile.

Joker moved to her side of the bed, looming his gaze over her pale figure before reconsidering. He was too tired to make happy. Instead, he'd lay down and 'punish' her tomorrow. At this point, it was a miracle if he was able to sleep tonight, considering the screaming was getting louder, even when Victor was given his pain pill. Joker rolled over on his side, closing his eyes. He briefly felt a hand graze his hip and then it disappeared from touch.

A/N: Sorry about the short chapter. I'm going to make the next one to have a few lemons if I can help it! :D


	9. Mommy and Daddy Time

Chapter Nine: Mommy and Daddy Time

A/N: Well, I thought I was far overdue for a lemon so here's one and it actually works into my plot! Woo! :) Have fun, children. Momma loves ya!

Morning came whenever Joker awoke. Seeing the sunshine glistening through the lowered, tattered curtains the last occupants had left behind, he could see bits and pieces of the annoying brightness peeking through. The darkness was still there...had to be nearly sunrise...or maybe sunset. Granted, he wasn't one to sleep all hours of the day. Joker groaned, feeling very little productivity in his wake; there were days he could spring out of bed and BAM! He'd be an early farmer, tending to the cows of his herd. Today however, he was—to a word—exhausted.

He looked up at the rotting ceiling above the queen-sized bed; it was still in reasonable condition but there was definitely a plumber to talk to about the leaky plumbing in the pipes that shifted water through the walls. Concentric circles were practically the ceiling's design, for save the intricate patter of dots and array of stains. At that point, the wall borders above and below were slowly fading in color and age...just like age.

Joker frowned. He certainly was not the early bird of the morning. He licked his lips, feeling his familiar scars. Something brought him from his interior decorative state of mind (in another life, he could have been an architect or fashion designer) when he felt the shifting weight in his bed. He glanced downwards, expecting some gun-wielding monster to come at him any moment—so was his expectations per waking up daily. Someone—gunman, robber, mobster, bum...his mother—was always out to hunt him down. Seeing past his bare chest, which was decorated with scars of its own, he saw no one. Then hearing a soft sigh, he turned to his immediate left.

Ah...he had almost forgotten her.

She was lying beside him. Allegra Von...er...Davenheart...Vanessa? Queen...

Joker scowled—she had so many aliases, he wondered if he shouldn't just call her 'Allegra' or 'mysterious klepto'. She'd introduced herself to him as Allegra...that much he knew. Stripper and a barmaid for an occupation and had been, a week ago, reported as 'missing' on national television. 'Armed and dangerous', Engel had reported. Joker looked at the temptress with heavily lidded eyes, a raucous natural smile, and the fiery brunette hair that fell down her shoulders in natural wisps and straight locks. The scars on her naked abdomen and shoulders—gun wounds, knife scars...he smirked. A woman who could take as much pain as she possibly did was certainly good enough to be around.

Joker sat up, reserving the right not to fall back asleep. He put his back against the headboard—it was damn near freezing outside of the blankets! He continued to watch Allegra. At first, it was out of jealousy—he wished he could sleep so soundly. It'd been a long time since he'd gotten such rest; to see her nearly frozen (for she hardly moved at all), Joker wished he could find a deeper sleep than a few hours' worth. He watched Allegra nearly five minutes, unblinking...quiet. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of her illuminous bosom, Joker might've thought her a corpse.

"Will you shut up!" Joker heard one of the men snapping from downstairs. "You'll wake the boss, and do you really want that to happen!" Joker smirked: It was Bear.

He could recognize that bellowing deep voice anywhere.

"It hurts so bad!" Victor was crying—his whiny voice never failing to scratch Joker's nerves. The latter cringed, feeling a slow and steady urge to take the knife from his favorite collection and drive it further in the man's slowly healing knee wound. He wanted to know pain? Joker would show him pain...he began to climb out of bed to do just that until the woman beside him stirred.

She opened her eyes slowly, then, seeing him, she smiled as big as Joker's scars had permanently made him grin. He wondered how such a smile could relive consistently on a woman's face without having any favors done for her, or sex for that matter. Joker grinned back at her.

"Good morning," Joker mused sarcastically.

"I wouldn't call it 'good'," said Allegra. She heard the crying of the fat man downstairs. "He still going on about that?"

Joker chuckled, saying, "If you hadn't shot him, we wouldn't be waking up to it."

Allegra shrugged, knowing he was right. A week ago, Allegra had shot the complaining simpleton in the knee for giving the wrong answer to a trivial question that should never had been answered to start with—that had been Allegra's way of making a very dark joke that only he and his other goons found funny. Granted, Victor couldn't find the humor in the pun, as he had been served the punchline—shooting his knee cap.

She watched Joker get out of bed, pulling down gray pants in exchange for dark blue jeans and tossing his hands through a blue, collared shirt. Her eyes never failed to give him a short check-out, the smile on her face (had he not seen it, he'd have thought it impossible) widening ever more. Joker noticed. He liked it when she looked at him 'that' way.

"What are you doing?" asked Allegra.

Joker stepped onto the bed, trapping her back against the headboard and her knees slid opposite ways so he sat right in between them. His hands touched her jawline, tracing his thumbs down from the point of her chin over her throat. His fingers grazed behind her ears, and took a handful of her roots just below the nape of her neck, pulling her head back so she looked _up_ at him, rather than eye-level.

"I'm not telling you," Joker told her, breaking the suspense.

"Why not?" asked Allegra. She grimaced when he tugged a little too tightly, but he loved seeing her expression. He caused that painful wince. He caused her to teeter back to her rightful place. She was his interest, the most interesting by far, but Allegra was still working for him, not with him.

"Because," said Joker, "I have a feeling you might ruin this for me."

"When have I done that?"

"You've taken my gun several times," Joker told her.

"I borrowed it."

"You shot my employee."

"He gave me the wrong answer."

"You'd have shot him _either way_."

Allegra grinned as he brought his lips to hers, but never touched them.

"And," said Joker smoothly, "your little setback has cost me greatly."

"I didn't realize you were a materialistic man, Killer," Allegra whispered, smirking when Joker frowned slightly.

"Allegra," he purred darkly, "there is a very dis-_tinct_ difference between 'materialistic' and 'resourceful'. For once, I actually did mean for Vicky to be part of a little scheme I've been drawing, and by shooting him, you've knocked out one of the pawns in my delicious game."

Allegra felt him pull her hair tighter, a stronger grip. She moved towards him, her hips pushing against his—the nightshirt she wore to bed drawn up her legs so her purple panties were easily visible. Joker glanced down briefly, seeing her hands move to his chest, brushing down the buttons, undoing them as she spoke next.

"I'm sorry I ruined your game," Allegra mewed innocently, although the guilty pleasure resounded in her eyes and soft mockery. "You can take away my allowance for a week."

"I'll take more than that if you're going to shoot another one," Joker told her pointedly.

"Ground me." Allegra muttered in a sultry voice. While Joker towered over her, Allegra lowered to the bed on her back, moving her feet up the back of his legs. Her hands fingered down the lines of his shirt, squeezing over his shoulders, feeling his taut muscles. Joker watched her carefully, knowing damn well whatever she was doing (or planning) was working to her advantage.

"I have no time for _your_ games," Joker told her coolly.

"Daddy works all the time," Allegra mewed sadly, but the smile on her face was bolder. "No time for Mommy. And the kids wonder why we fight..."

"We don't fight."

"But wouldn't it be great if we did?" Allegra purred. Saying so, she pushed her mouth onto his—her tongue grazed over his scars with the same intrique she had for them, and found his tongue. Surprised at her action and a little of her words, Joker moved on his back, chuckling in his throat when Allegra unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his legs.

"Working hard this morning, hm?" Joker teased, smirking when Allegra straddled him after moving down his boxers. They dropped somewhere at the end of the bed. She pulled her nightshirt over her head, throwing it aside. Joker smirked when she was completely naked, even the pretty violet panties had been discarded. Joker wondered when that had happened—how did he miss that beautiful show!

"One of your imps burst through that door and interrupt this a third time," Allegra stated dangerously, her voice livid with arousal and seriousness, "I'll burn this house to the ground, and chain the door."

Joker grinned. "Ooh, you have a really dark sense of humor!"

Allegra lowered her body to touch his bare chest (the shirt having been tossed with his jeans—seriously, how did he miss that!), her hardened nips grazing him as her hips began to grind against him. He looked at her as she danced slowly; her tantalizing figure...the way her thighs simply held him in place...

Joker smirked when she kissed him hard, and she bit his lip. He made a soft grunt of pain but it had disappeared the moment he felt it. He returned the gesture, biting her tongue instead when he found it inside her mouth. Allegra giggled—a cute giggle. Her hands rubbed between her chest and his, making their way below his torso...down, down...

"Boss!"

Allegra growled (Joker felt immediate arousal, hearing such a furious sound). She leaned past him, and put her hand underneathe the mattress just above his head, and pulled out a magnum gun. She cocked it, then shot at the door. Bear, Kyle, and James could be heard screaming with surprise then running down the stairs.

"YOU COME THROUGH THIS DOOR, FUCKERS, AND I WILL BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEADS OFF!" Allegra shouted.

Joker laughed, even as the gunshot echoed throughout the room and possibly the entire house. He found his limit though, more than ready for her. He took the gun from her hand, putting it behind him on the mattress as he leaned forward, taking her by the hips and moving Allegra on her back. She giggled with the gesture, looking up at him.

"You really have to stop being so hard on them," Joker said. "Remember, Allegra? You're Mom, I'm Dad—sound familiar?"

"I didn't realize we were playing House," Allegra quoted his words back to him. She shrugged. "Momma gets tired of the children."

Joker smirked at her.

"You should learn to control that temper of yours, Bunny. It's not proper taking it out on the kids." Joker said calmly. He moved his lips briefly over her neck; she moaned quietly at his touch, even more when he kissed her a second time with his tongue. Even lower, Joker could feel that she was ready for him. Maybe had been for the past week or so, maybe, even, the first time they met.

"Oh, yeah, in a jam?" Allegra breathed, excitement building. "I'd hate for _that_ to happen." She reached behind him, taking her fingernails to his lower back. "Call Social Services." She laughed.

"They'll be on the streets," Joker told her. He teased her with a small entry, letting her get a taste of what would be filling inside. She was panting with suspense.

"So kill them," she moaned quietly. Allegra laughed again—more out of desperation than actual humor— "That's all they're good for anyway!"

"Isn't that what you're for?" Joker questioned. He said it to see her reaction. Was she really worth having? It depended.

Allegra looked at him for a second, completely caught off guard. Then, she smiled at him.

"Either fuck me or kill me, Killer. Either way, I'm sure we'll both have fun."

Joker stared at her, a bit stunned at the answer. But he smiled, and with that, he pushed all of him inside of her. She moaned loudly at the penetration; even more when he didn't stop to let her become accustomed to his size. His thrusts were unprecedented; somehow, her body found the rhythm. Her nails clawed his back; he gave her bruises on her chest and hips. Their moans of pleasure were louder than the cries Victor mewed from downstairs.

When the two had reached their peak, Allegra was an incoherent bubble of pleasing sounds to Joker's ears. He rolled off her, lying on his back. Her eyes were glazed over, hair in a mess, and her breathing was erratic. However, her smile was evident.

"_Now_," she panted, "it's a good morning."

Joker gave her a look, and began dressing again.

"Now what are you doing?" asked Allegra, sitting up. Her nakedness exposed—Joker didn't mind; he was happy to get another memory into his brain before going downstairs.

He took the magnum from the bed and held it in his hand.

"I'm going to comfort the children," Joker told her lightly. He leaned forward over the bed, kissing her lips briefly, adding, "I'll let them know you're feeling better now."

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic," Allegra returned.

Joker grinned broadly at her, then turned to leave.

"Honey."

"Hmm," Joker looked at her.

She threw him the magnum, and Joker looked at it curiously. Didn't he just have it a while ago...wait...He looked at Allegra and seeing the mischievous smirk on her face, he figured the games weren't over, even if they had ended. He shook his head and walked out of the bedroom while Allegra chuckled to herself with great amusement.


	10. Something to Cry About

Chapter Ten: Something To Cry About

A/N: This has to be the best OC I've ever written. Anyway, this chapter really speaks to Allegra's character, I think. Enjoy reading—I should be able to update tomorrow afternoon: Work and such. Happy hand grenades! XD

Joker brushed a hand through his green scraggly hair for the third time in utter annoyance. Victor was lame on the couch, knee still attempting to recover from the previous week. The man wore a white muscle shirt, his gut sticking out over his gray pants; the blood had seeped through the material effortlessly and while James and Bear took turns changing the gauze every twelve hours, Joker knew it was going to be a matter of at least another week before Victor could even stand on his leg without the bone snapping under three hundred pounds of fat. The heist would have to wait, unless...

Joker smirked. Allegra was good as any of the five men sitting in the living room. Quick, witty, brilliantly seductive, and definitely a sneaky pickpocket—he could use her instead of a useless fat ass like Victor. The only reason he ever kept the latter around was to babysit Kyle, who was doing just fine under Bear and James' tutoring. Kyle didn't wince at the disgusting wound which was at the beginning of an infection; instead, he had become accustomed to it. Joker smiled- the boy was starting to learn that there was more to be grossed out about than a simple knee injury. Victor on the other hand really milked it.

"Boss, can I have another pain pill?" asked Victor pleadingly.

"Why?" Joker asked, simply to annoy the man. "You're doing fine."

"But it hurts..."

"Tell me something I don't know," Joker returned. "Lemme tell you something, _Vicky,_" he sat on the side of the couch beside Victor, "you're in a lot less pain than uh you realize. I can make it worse that way you have something to really bitch about. This..." He put his hand on the gauze, applying pressure to a point that Victor started whimpering in agony, "is a scratch."

"But..." Victor began.

"You want something to cry about?"

Joker and Victor turned their heads to see Allegra walking down the stairs. Dressed in a black silk shirt that cut off to her elbows and defined her curved, she was in the moment of pulling her hair up in a fancy but messy french plait. Black pants hugged her hips, and they flared down her legs so it really gave Joker a very coerced naughty idea. She wore black heeled boots to pull the sexy ninja bit off perfectly.

Bear and James walked from the kitchen, and Bear was holding a new change of bandages for the lame man on the couch. Joker stepped away so Bear could tend to him, merely bored with this sadistic game of pain and tolerance. Allegra ignored Joker, walking past him; she held out her hand so Bear gave her the bandages happily; he didn't like changing bandages for the whining baby.

"Thanks," Allegra returned, smiling sweetly at Bear, who gave her a sheepish grin—like a kid who'd done well with pleasing a mother. Bear and James stepped aside, sitting on two armchairs as they watched eagerly. Joker was just as entertained.

"I don't want you to..." Victor began but Allegra put her hand to his mouth.

"Shhhhh," she silenced in an unusually gentle voice. Her voice was low, but soft. "Don't cry. This will only hurt a little." She pulled up his pant leg, rolling it outwards above his knee. A large hole was easily noticeable in spite of the pus and blood seeping out from within the wound. A large bruise surrounded the area.

"That looks awful," Allegra said.

"You did it!" Victor snapped.

"Honestly, if this is the worst thing to happen to you, I'd consider yourself lucky." Allegra returned.

Kyle came around the corner and one look at the angry injury, he made a gagging noise, running to the nearest bathroom to puke out whatever he'd eaten last. Bear and James chuckled, clearly amused by the lack of strength in the kid's stomach. Allegra ignored them, pinpointing the infection as she rubbed alcohol and peroxide—Victor slapped her hand away, which earned him a good slap to his face.

"Do that again," Allegra said dangerously, "And I'll hit you harder."

"When I get on my feet, you're dead." Victor threatened.

"I hope so, but you better make sure you don't miss," Allegra returned. She poured the rest of the alcohol on his knee, making him writhe and scream in agony—James and Bear watched uneasily, but Joker was in a fit of laughter.

Allegra said darkly as she put grabbed his knee and pricked her fingers deep into the wound (Victor started crying), "Because I can gauruntee that I won't miss."

"Allegra." Bear began, "He'll never get better if you antagonize it."

"I'm more than aware," Allegra responded.

"Let the woman have some fun," Joker told them, laughing. "God knows I am!"

"Please, stop, please, please..." Victor cried in dry sobs. He looked at Allegra with puppy dog eyes, but she returned her same cold stare. Then, she put the bandages over it, using an anesthetic ointment to numb the pain. She tossed the bottled ointment to James, who caught it emotionlessly.

"Use it on that for another week; it should heal it within that time period, give or take a day." Allegra responded.

"Why didn't we just use this in the beginning?" asked James curiously, reading the ingredients in the prescription drug.

"Some people don't deserve a hasty recovery," Allegra returned gently. She looked at Victor. "Get well soon." She planted a kiss on his forehead with genuine concern, then walked out of the living room, looking for the ill-felt Kyle. She found him with his face ducked in a toilet, throwing up clear contents. Allegra patted him on the back and when Kyle had finished crying for the sake that nothing should ever come up the way it came down, Allegra assured him that she wouldn't let him see that kind of injury again.

"It's just gross," Kyle said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I've seen some gross crap, but that's just too much for me."

"It takes a certain adaptation," Allegra comforted. "Give it time."

"Did you help Victor?" asked Kyle.

"Sure did." Allegra returned. "He should be better within the week."

"I heard him crying."

"He's a little bitch, son," she reminded. "He'll get over it. In the meantime, clean yourself up, take a breather, then come back out." She offered him a washcloth.

"Thanks, Mom." Kyle said, but then he stopped himself, looking at her uncertianly. "Uh, I didn't..."

"It's fine," returned Allegra, smiling at him serenly. She kissed his forehead as she'd done with Victor. "I don't mind. I'll see you at dinner."

"All right." Kyle replied, although he felt extremely uncomfortable, not to mention awkward.

Allegra smiled again then left the bathroom. She saw Joker waiting for her, smirking as usual.

"What?"

"Where did you get the drug?" asked Joker, indicating Victor's new prescription therapy.

"I had it with me the entire time," Allegra replied.

"Why?"

She indicated the scars on her belly, the gun shot wounds and knife scars.

"You learn to keep insurance at all times," Allegra stated gently. She stepped towards him, kissing his cheek briefly. "I just wanted to see that bitch suffer a little long before I gave it to him."

"You're a deviant." Joker complimented.

"Thanks," Allegra returned. "Too bad not all men are like you."

"Oh, they are," Joker told her. He glanced at Victor. "Then again, I've been wrong before."

Allegra smiled, and he returned it.


	11. Joker Face

Chapter 11: Joker Face

Over the next week, Allegra had grown accustomed to hanging more with the boys, especially when she'd drawn in favor of causing Victor the worst pain possible. The prescription drug she had given to him worked as far as the pain was concerned and that shut him up for a good while until the infection had dwindled. After that, the bottle had been used up and there was no more relief for the man on the couch. He was getting back to normal though, talking to Kyle, James, Bear, and occasionally Specs, who had become another part of the group. Specs was awfully quiet, moreso than what was usual for a homeless man. It took a long while before he actually started speaking to the men like he was actually one of their own, rather than a simple man pulled from the streets.

Allegra mothered him in like a hen with a newfound chick, and so Specs became one of the frequent happy ones. Kyle, who had become accustomed to Allegra's attractive motherly type saw her no longer as some eye candy; her gentle words at night and her useful tactics to toughen him up (slapping him across the face when he started crying about his lost parents and how he was never loved; she told him to grow a pair) and simple go-to parenting (she hugged him afterwards), Kyle was completely drawn to her.

Victor still didn't like her. After all, Allegra had shot him.

Bear, James, Kyle, Specs, and Victor all sat a month later on the couch. No knee injury to make any excuse as to why they couldn't get up and do something else. Allegra retreated upstairs to Joker's lair (his office) when they started hollering and making wolf whistles at some newfound porno site; that, she found disgusting. Allegra walked up the stairs, barred in heeled boots, black pants, and a red tee shirt. Her hair fell down her shoulders, even more when she bent over to pick up a pair of Kyle's pants and Bear's helmet to his bad-ass Harley that stayed hidden behind the house.

She put these items on a table in the middle of the hall before knocking on the door of Joker's office. Just inside, the aforementioned man stood over a desk, arms outstretched to the sides while he looked down at a blueprint of something—odds are, it was a bank. Allegra heard a lot of 'bank' talk from Victor, enough she reckoned that was the next target. Her dark eyes cast over Joker's loose tie and collared shirt, and a smile curved her mischievous lips when she heard him breathe irately.

"If you're going to linger in the doorway, you may as well enter," Joker told her without turning his head. "It's rude to hang around entrances."

Allegra obliged, coming around him to look at the blueprint.

"What is this?" Allegra asked, gesturing to the print.

"What do you think?" Joker returned, sounding annoyed.

"I'm sorry—should I leave you two alone?" asked Allegra coolly. She gave him a smile, showing she was kidding. "What's made you all grumpy?"

"Nothing makes me grumpy," Joker told her. "But since you've asked—this is a blueprint to the first National bank."

Allegra clicked her tongue saying knowingly, "A mob bank."

"Exactly," said Joker. He gestured to the far end of the map where clearly the vaults were intertwined with alarm systems, magnets, and electric fences to the other end which was the entrance of the bank, where all the cashiers aligned in simplistic money rows. "One of the largest banks, there is."

"You're going to rob a mob's life savings?" asked Allegra; she didn't sound so much as incredulous as she did skeptical.

"Not single-handedly." Joker returned quietly. He gave the map a curious overglance then to her, he said, "I had been planning on using the boys for this operation but it's so hard to find good help these days...useful help, anyway."

"So send Victor."

Allegra grinned when Joker's lips curved into a suppressed smile, but after a moment, it revealed completely. He looked up at her.

"For once, Allegra, I'm being quite serious."

Allegra stepped towards him, leaning against the desk with her lower back, crossing her arms. She said softly, "So was I."

Joker gave her another grin, but it was more subtle. He placed his hands on the front of the map—the rooftops.

"I gave it a good look around before I mapped this out," said Joker.

"I didn't think you like plans."

"I make plans—it doesn't mean I get my underwear tied in knots when my plans do not necessarily work out. Improvisation is one of my better talents," said Joker smoothly. He put his hand under Allegra's chin, brushing her jawline with his thumb in a soft gentle caress, adding, "It's one thing to be just ahead of the curve, and quite another to attempt to control what people simply can't."

Allegra smiled dopely when he stroked his thumb over her cheek, then tapped it hard enough she made soft 'Oof' but it was gentle enough it didn't completely hurt. Joker looked at her pointedly.

"Am I going to be part of this little rump roast?" asked Allegra lightly. She gave an interested glance at the map.

"I should have known you'd want to be part of it," said Joker. "But yes—I'm planning on it."

"You shouldn't have," said Allegra, smirking at him. "Put Vicky on the front lines. He always said he wanted to make a big deposit."

"Not in this fashion."

"He wants a deposit," said Allegra. "They want a withdraw" (she indicated the other boys downstairs).

"What do you want?" asked Joker coolly, looking at her.

She smiled serenely.

"I want to blow up something." Allegra returned. She hopped on his desk, sitting on the edge. Joker strolled over to her, opening her legs so he stood between them. His hands laid on either side of her legs, on the desk. Allegra's eyes dilated.

"When this is over," said Joker smoothly, his hands moving from the desk to her thighs and upwards as he spoke, "I may have to keep you just for my stress management."

"Buy a stress ball," Allegra joked.

He laughed quietly, saying, "I'm afraid it doesn't have the same affect."

"Humor does," said Allegra. "Laughing reduces stress."

"That, it does," Joker returned. He had a moment's thought. "Come with me. I have something I want to show you."

"Something I've already seen?" asked Allegra, an impish grin curving her lips.

"Not exactly." He took her hand and pulled her beside him, moving them into the bathroom. She watched him go through the medicine cabinet, told her to look away for a few minutes and not to peek. Allegra did as she was told, looking at the interesting tile work of the bathroom floor before Joker instructed for her to turn around.

"I don't see what this has to do with humor..." Allegra began; she turned, and then she was at a loss for words.

Joker had put on his face. Literally. A new face greeted her. The scarred lips were mess of red lipstick; his dark eyes were etched in charcoal rings of shoe polish, and his face in general was caked in white greasepaint. It went spiffy with the green dyed hair that Allegra didn't really understand to begin with, but it certainly completed the look. Allegra stared at him, at first shocked, then she smiled.

"Clown," she muttered curiously enough.

"Yes," Joker replied. "What do you think?"

"Funny." Allegra stated. "Although exceptionally morbid."

"Good," said Joker, licking his lips out of habit. He looked in the mirror, pleased with his appearance. Allegra appeared behind him; her arms went around his waist.

"Morbid," she whispered, "and yet, to me...very sexy. I do have a thing for clowns."

Joker glanced at her reflection then turned his head to see that the ear-to-ear grin was back on her face. 'The' look. He could only grin at her, which made the red smile match the length of hers.


	12. Holy Shit

Chapter Twelve: Holy Shit

A/N: This story is going slower than I intended but there's always a pre-show before the fireworks begin. Batman will be coming up shortly within the next few chapters, but right now, just enjoy Joker and Allegra :) Soon to be the bank robberies! WOOP! (Now that I'm off this weekend, uploads should be spontaneous!)

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Nightfall was approaching, and then just as soon it had come, it'd left. Outside, Allegra was checking the car—a hijacked plain old rusty car, but it was transporation none the less. She was bent at the waist, arms mulling around under the steering wheel, her eyes concentrating like squinted slits. Early morning was dawning—the early twilight of a new day, a new exciting day. Joker walked outside twenty minutes after she'd begun hot-wiring it.

Sure he could have done it, but he didn't care that someone else had the skills to do it instead.

"Sure hope you intend on buying a different escape pod," said Allegra from the floorboard of the car. She craned her head to look at him: "This baby isn't going to last long."

"It'll be fine," Joker stated carelessly. "It's only temporary."

"Mm." Allegra returned monotonously. She hitched the wires together, tying red and blue, and then it electrified into gear. The motor felt warm as she ran the gun, sitting in the driver's seat with a smile on her face—accomplishment number 1. Joker patted her on the back, but that was all the gratitude she received from him. Just as well; she didn't think she'd get a gold star just for using basic skills.

Hearing the motor run beautifully (and miraculously) Joker went inside—Specs, Victor, Bear, Kyle, and good ol' Biker James flanked him on the way out. The door remained open (who would steal from that house of junk?) as Kyle, being the last to pile into the pretty clown car, buckled in beside Bear, Specs, James, and Victor. Joker sat in the passenger seat, comfortable with his personal space—unlike the big men in the back. Kyle was pressed against the door, looking as though he was about to be the pancake.

"I can't breathe!" whined Victor.

"Hold your breath," retorted Bear with annoyance. "Allegra's the only woman in this car, but you're the only bitch! Now if you don't shut up, I'll..."

"Bear, cut him some slack," Kyle moaned. "It _is_ hot in here."

"Roll the fuckin' window down," James ordered, glaring at them all. "Or I'm going to kill both of you."

"Will you just..." Victor began, trying to move his arms out of the vice like grip of the tightened corners in the back of the car.

"Ow! Your elbow is diggin' in my crotch!" Kyle snapped, pushing Victor away from him. Victor went into Bear, who growled with frustration, pushing Victor back.

"Stop moving!" James snapped.

Joker laughed, completely amused. Allegra looked at the lot of them.

"Which bank?" asked Allegra for directions.

"Second National," breathed Joker with some effort. He rubbed his temples, attempting a force of calm. There was no use in giving directions when he was laughing and couldn't concentrate. He heard the men arguing like children in the backdrop, and he merely ignored them.

"Second?" repeated Kyle, interrupted the boisterous quarrel. "But, I thought you said we were hitting the first national..."

"I never said which," said Joker calmly. He smiled at him. "Next time, pay attention, kid. It might be your life on the line."

Kyle then asked the others if Joker had said second instead of 'first' but the boys were smart enough not to talk about it while the boss was right in front of them. Although allegra turned right towards second national bank, she, too, looked curiously at him, as though he might've misspoken. Joker smirked at her, and this only made her peak her interest.

"Turn right," Joker instructed.

Allera did as she was told. She didn't follow road rules—she turned in front of cars even though they had the right-of-way. She ran stop lights, stop signs, and cut cars as they were signaling to pass. Sometimes, she would accelerate just to piss off a passing car, so they'd be back where they were ten minutes ago while trying to pass. Even as a car was getting onto the interstate, Allegra cut him off so a near car-collision had happened. While Joker found this a hoot-and-a-half, she was practically making the other men shit their pants with fear of dying.

One of them, naturally, was Victor, who screamed like a girl when Allegra cut off a semi-truck, which honked at her mercilessly; the driver gave her the finger, so she gave it back. Joker gave her a look.

"A bit of a road devil, aren't ya?" Joker asked, clearly impressed.

"My road." Allegra returned. She glanced at him. "My rules."

"Road rage will get you killed, Bunny," Joker uttered lightly only where she could hear him. Allegra smiled in spite of this, and she continued to disobey the rules, much to his happiness.

"SLOW DOWN!" Victor pleaded as the speed limit reached fifty, but she went over thirty.

"WOOOO!" Bear hollered, waving his arms in Victor and James' faces. "WOO! YEAH!"

"I can't see!" Victor screamed, pushing away Bear's hand.

"GET OUT OF MY FACE!" snapped James, pushing Bear's hand away from his personal space.

"_We're gonna die!_" Kyle yelled, eyes widening as Allegra went head-on with another semi-truck, only she was on the opposing traffic's side.

"OH MY GOD!" screeched Victor, shielding his eyes. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!"

"We're all gonna die!"

"HELP! MAD WOMAN!"

Joker jumped up and down in his seat, giddy and laughing. He held onto the dash board, _just_ in case Allegra supposedly was doing what he figured she was planning. The semitruck blared its horn, loud enough that the citizens halfway across Gotham City could possibly hear it, and the cursing the trucker seemed to be spitting was profane. Allegra gave him the finger, and the semi-trucker ran off the road, colliding into road guard rails, down a ditch, and then off course. Allegra laughed hysterically, glancing at her rear view mirror.

"WOO!" Allegra squealed, hitting the steering wheel. "I said, god damn what a rush!"

She did a U-turn in the middle of the highway, causing many cars to blare their own horns and stop in mid-traffic. Just as Allegra completed a three-sixty and began on the same highway she'd originally started, she glanced in the back seat to see a group of wide-eyed men staring at her as though she'd gone mad. Behind the car in which she steered, a large fire had begun from the five-car collision, and a lost semi-truck driver.

Joker laughed, grinning ear-to-ear.

"That's my girl!" Joker congratulated, clapping her on the back.

Allegra floored the accelerator down the highway, and stopped off on a side road. She parked it right in front of Second National Bank—not a mob bank, but a damn good sized one. White building, pillars, long-ass steps-good for the picking.

"Test run," Joker stated—this was the explanation to his earlier statement of 'second national bank', rather than the first, as Allegra had been led to believe was their actual test run. He threw five guns in the back—one for Specs (who had been quiet the entire time, surprisingly), Kyle, Victor, James, and Bear. Joker turned to Allegra.

"What, no gun?" asked Allegra, smirking at him.

"Of course not," said Joker. "Your gun privileges are still suspended." He clicked his tongue as they all got out of the car. He handed them each a clown mask, which would be tied to the back of their heads, a sort of fucked up Halloween trick-or-treat gag. They all took it seriously, putting it over their heads. Allegra might have found it not so comical if they'd all worn panty hose.

"Now it's time to see what you can _really_ do," Joker purred, putting his hand on Allegra's face. He caressed it in a way that was unlike him—gentle, soft, almost tender. Allegra wasn't fooled, even when he put his lips against her ear and whispered, "Get in, take down the alarm system."

"I thought you _want_ to be noticed?" asked Allegra quietly.

"In time," said Joker. "Gotham will know just who the classy criminals are. Not these people." He glanced at the petty women and men walking up and down the stairs, scolding their children, talking big about companies and withdrawn accounts, their hopeless lives centered around the bank in which Allegra and Joker were ready to collapse.

"Three minutes, Bunny." Joker told her. "Have it down. If it triggers, I'm going to kill you. Got that?"

"Got it," said Allegra. She smiled back at him.

She trotted up the stairs, leaping five at a time. Joker watched after her fondly, only offering a brief sigh of instant gratification for her but then turned to his men. He gestured them to go, and they all put on their masks (uncertain as to how to react after seeing that odd display of affection for 'mother'). Victor, being as heavy as he was, was taking up the rear. Each man carried a blue duffel bag which laid across their fronts—Bear was able to carry two of them, so was James, being their size. Kyle ran awkwardly beside the two large muscular men, uncertain of the weight carried on his shoulder, and his brain. Shooting cans in the foyer was one thing-shooting people...

Joker, guised in his Grumpy mask, stepped into the bank, armed by his little team. They barrelled through the pretty lights, the well-taken-care-of tiled floor, and the high ceiling above. Columns of people lined one behind the other in front of rows of cashiers. Upon seeing the men, the panic began, even more when Joker shot into the ceiling with a magnum—erupting fear into all the souls in the bank.

The cashiers, as though rehearsed, raised their hands. Specs, who was the most experienced in robbery, walked towards the superior cashier; he had a badge "manager" on his chest, and looked the most calm out of the bunch. Specs held the gun to the man's face as James and Bear shouted orders through the bank, telling everyone that their hands were going to be up in the air, and their heads should be down.

One of the little cashiers stepped forward to disarm Kyle, who snapped the gun back and hit the guy in the ear. The latter went down, screaming in pain, and Kyle looked uncertain now.

"C'mon, Kid, this ain't school, anymore," Bear uttered, nudging Kyle's shoulder. "This ain't no playground."

"Money out," James ordered the female cashiers. "Or you're not seeing anything outside of this." He pulled out his own gun, aiming it at their faces. "Got it?"

"Yes, yes, just don't hurt us!" pleaded the girls.

"Who do you think you are!" snapped some of the men in different tones of anger, some were scared shitless, pretending to be macho.

"I'm calling the police!" threatened one of them. The manager, who was calm still, glared hatefully at Specs, who could only return the gaze with a bit of disdain. What did he do to deserve such a look (except put the gun right in the guy's face?).

"Go 'head," Joker said in a clever drawl. "I'd like to see you try. In fact, do it. I'll let you do it."

Joker clicked his fingers, and Specs lowered the gun so the manager walked unsteadily to his desk. Still uncertain, he clicked the button just underneath the table, and waited. And waited. And waited.

"Disappointing," said Joker. "I wonder uh...why _that_ didn't work."

"System...system must be down," said the manager fearfully. He clicked the button several times, quicker each time, and the panic in his eyes filled with the same emotional tears that floated his brown orbs. From behind stepped a young woman, clad in a bright purple neon shirt, and blue jeans.

"Oh, you have _no_ idea," said Allegra loosely.

Frightened, the manager turned around, looking at her incredulously. In her hand, she wiggled broken cords.

Somehow, this little tid bit of information froze the entire bank; the cashiers were screaming, and now, the manager, had started losing his cool.

"Take what you want," he said quietly, losing his cool. "Take everything..just don't hurt us."

The men had already gone through the bank, opening vaults thanks to the lost alarm. Their duffel bags overflowed with cash. Kyle staggered with the awkward weight, and Victor unsteadily moved side-to-side, but his lips contorted greedily.

"Why are you doing this?" asked the manager uncertainly. He shrunk against his desk, looking at Allegra uncomfortably; her mellow gaze had become empty as they watched him dangerously.

"Why are you doing this to me?" the manager asked. He glanced at Joker, hoping he'd provide the answers. But in the source of a calamity, Joker was enjoying himself. He hollered for the men to get back to the car, get out or be slaughtered. Allegra smirked at the manager, still holding the broken cord.

"Is it the mob you want?" the manager breathed. He looked around him—where was the police? Where was Batman? Ah, Batman—he'd come last minute. He'd come!"

"Eventually," Joker told him pointedly.

"I'm not a mobster!" the manager said excitedly. He looked desperately at the woman, who was walking towards him, still fingering the cords through her slender, pointed fingers. The smile on her face was most devious, and the look in her eyes was very unsettling.

"What I want," said Joker smoothly, "and what she wants" (he glanced casually at her) "are two different things." He clapped the man on the back, then turned to Allegra. "Make it fast, doll face. We haven't got all day."

"Don't worry." Allegra mewed. She walked towards the manager, who bent down to his desk, holding the furniture for a comfort that never came. "It won't take long."

Victor was heading back for money—his heavy-weight form was packing the duffel bags, and yet, he was going back to the banks.

"What are you doing?" Joker questioned.

"We still have room for more," Victor began.

"Get in the car, Vicky." Joker ordered. "It's not up for negotiation."

"But, Boss—the money..."

Joker pulled out the magnum. "Do what I say, Vicky. It's not a choice. Now."

Victor looked unhappy. He opened his mouth to oppose. Just as he watched Allegra wrap the phone and alarm cords around the neck of an unfortunate, strangled, and desperately crying male manager, Victor ran to get the last bit of cash in the bank deposits. Just as he stepped towards the vault, Joker shot the man right between the eyes. Women screamed—Men shouted, and they all ducked simultaneoulsly.

"HOLY SHIT!" Bear shouted in an unnaturally high-pitched voice. Kyle turned to look, but Bear pushed him down the stairs. "Don't look, kid! You heard the Man! Get going!"

Kyle, Bear, and James joined Specs in the car, burrowing into the back seat. Joker watched the lifeless body of Victor fall to the ground, his eyes merely cast in disappointment. He'd have to carry the bags now—god...

Allegra had finished strangling the man, his face a horrid shade of purple and black. She looked up at Joker, seeing Victor's body roll down the bloodied stairs. Allegra's face lit up; she took to the tile; Joker and Allegra ran through the bank; Allegra took the bag from Victor's dead body, and she threw it in the back seat as the two clambored in the car.

"FLOOR IT!" Bear snapped. "DO IT WOMAN!"

Allegra hot-wired the rusted robotic part, ramming her heel on the pedal. It ran off the road for a second, then the car was out of the parking lot before the police even arrived on scene. Two bodies found, one strangled, one shot...a million dollars stolen from Second National Bank.


	13. Joker Rules

Chapter Thirteen: Joker Rules

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Kyle, Bear, Specs, and James piled out of the car. The duffel bags hung over their shoulders; Bear took Allegra's bag with a smile of generosity, tossing it over his shoulder as they walked center fold into the house. Lenny, who had stayed behind to 'guard' the house was surprised to see Joker step out of the car, his face and neck spattered with blood; Allegra, who crawled out of the driver's seat, closing the door casually as though they'd gone shopping, had claw marks on her arms where someone had viciously tried prying her hands from them. Lenny was confused, but didn't dare ask questions, especially since Kyle looked curiously ill; James touched Lenny's shoulder, reassuring him that all was taken care of.

"Why the blood, Jimmy?" asked Lenny with that characteristic innocence. Lenny wasn't stupid; he could could count one less body in the crowd. Victor wasn't there. Lenny didn't care for the heavy-weighted trot, but that didn't mean he was careless about where the poor son of a bitch had disappeared. James gave him a low-brow shake of a head, and Lenny understood. Victor had said something about retiring from work life early...may be he'd gone a lot earlier than he'd intended. Lenny helped James and Bear put the duffel bags in the kitchen, piling them on the table, pushing off empty beer cans and bottles to make room for the dough.

"I'm gonna be sick," Kyle muttered. He leaned against the wall. "Did you see all that blood?"

"Get used to it, kid," Bear stated ominously. "It's not the end of it. Vic, that manager—for any of us. Y ou be sure to do what Joker-Man says, and you ain't gonna end up like that. At least, not so badly."

Kyle grimaced fearfully. He made no attempt to hide it: He was afraid of Joker. They all were. Bear cleared his throat, telling Lenny to close the door; the cold was creeping in, and he could feel a draft.

"But the boss is..."

"Preoccupied," answered Specs quietly. He gestured wordlessly behind him; Bear smirked when he saw Allegra's back to them; she stood in front of the Joker, who sat on the hood of the car. They were talking, quietly, but the way they looked at each other—they didn't want to be disturbed.

"She's fuckin' crazy," Lenny said quietly.

Bear, James, Specs, and Kyle glanced at him, surprised. Lenny was wrong a lot—he didn't know up from down, left from right, but what he said just then...yeah, he had been right. Bear shook his head, looking at all of them.

"That manager guy," Bear lamented. "That was a bad rap."

"What'd she do?" Kyle asked.

Bear smiled at him, saying, "It's best you don't hear 'bout it, Kid. Might give you nightmares."

"Yeah," James added. "The guy didn't have an ounce of color left in his face after she was through with him."

"Strangled him," Specs commented uncomfortably.

Kyle looked surprised, and sick.

"She killed...him?"

"Yep," said Bear. He kicked a chair stylishly to the side and sat in it backwards, crossing his forearms over the back so the definition of his arms revealed muscular definition; he worked out a lot, definitely. "With that bit of phone cord she picked from the alarm system."

"Why'd she kill him?" asked Kyle.

"Don't know. Don't wanna know," James told him. "Best not think about it, Kid. You're not in the right place do that kind of thing. We're here for the boss-man—not the money, like Vic thought. That got him in trouble; he thought he ran the show. Joker runs the show. Joker has no rules—he'll kill all of us when he wants. The point is holding that time off as long as possible."

Kyle shook his head, overwhelmed with panic.

"Hey, Kid," said Specs quietly. He put his hand on Kyle's shoulder assuringly. "You stick on Allegra's good side, Joker ain't gonna kill you so quick."

"That bitch doesn't have any control over him," Biker James told Specs. "Don't give Kyle the idea."

"I'm not," Specs protested. "If we stay on Allegra's good side, then that's a favor to us. Joker don't care two shits about us, but I've seen the way he looks at her. That look. _The_ look."

"The adrenaline's gone to your head, son," Bear laughed, pointing at him. "Ain't no way Joker gonna love anyone—he's as crazy as she is, maybe more."

"May be," said Specs. "But I know for sure, this. If Allegra likes us, we have a chance of stayin'. She didn't like Victor, he's dead. So..."

"It's all chance," Kyle muttered.

The boys looked at him. They opened their mouths to say he was too naïve to understand these things. Too ignorant, too young. But he spoke more truth that Lenny had—Joker was a mad dog. He killed when and where he pleased, and whom. It was a matter of getting in and out of this whole charade alive before anything worse happened. At the very least, they weren't paying taxes. And Allegra liked _them_ for what it's worth.

Lenny smiled at them.

"Well, at least Mom likes us. That means 'Dad' will take it into consideration before killing us." He said happily. Then he paused. "I wonder if we'll go to Disneyland."

They all looked at him, perplexed. What a fucked up family, they were.

(())

Joker entered the bathroom, ignoring the hooting and hollering of the otherwise successful robbery. In one hand was a rag; in the other was a beer bottle, already having been drunk to the halfway marker. He set the latter on the sink, prepared to wipe away the make-up which was smeared in sweat and heat. He kept the door half-open, just in case something was to arise—a breakout in a fight, or a mass murder. The hollering was reduced to a minimum when he heard Allegra tell them to quiet down. Why, he had no idea. Nor did he want to know.

He moved the washcloth vigorously over his eyes and mouth, then the face in general. It didn't really help; it smeared every which a way. Ten minutes passed and he had it all wiped off. He gave himself a long good look before there was a knock on the door.

"Come." Joker drawled.

He wasn't surprised to see Allegra standing in the doorway, already half-way in.

"Lenny wants to know if we're going to Disneyland," Allegra commented randomly.

Or, at least, it was random to him. He was disarmed at the comment, and she smiled at his infrequent moments. Her smile was loose; she was only kidding, or maybe Lenny had been serious but she wasn't taking it so seriously. There was a soft tone of her face—she was calm, not stressed or anything good. Joker gave her a curious glance as he did a once-over on his face again, wiping the remnants of the make-up.

"You're missing some," said Allegra. She walked towards him, taking the rag from him. Joker gave her a look.

"I'm not asking for your help."

"You don't have to."

"I don't need it."

Allegra smirked at him. "You're being awfully difficult."

"You're insistent behavior is annoying," Joker commented truthfully.

Allegra handed him the rag back but he didn't take it. He said coolly, "You might as well." Allegra rolled her eyes and began dotting his face with the wet wash cloth. Her hands moved slowly from the left part of his face, to the right. He watched her expression—intriguity. That was the expression, that was the word he finally placed. Her eyes glanced down at his lips occasionally, then the smile tugged on his.

"You're awfully distrac-ted," Joker mused, licking his lips.

"I was thinking," said Allegra.

"Thinking?" Joker repeated immediately.

"Yeah."

"About what?"

"What happened at the bank."

"Don't tell me you're going soft on me," Joker mused knowingly. Allegra gave him a look.

"About Victor."

"Oh good lord," Joker muttered. He took the rag from her. "You feel something for that spoiled piece of flubber?"

"No," said Allegra. She touched her index finger over his lips, tracing his scars. Mysteriously, she'd backed him against a wall. How'd that happen, Joker wasn't quite sure. But he liked it. She distracted _him_ too easily. That might have to be remedied, yes.

"Then why the long face?" Joker inquired darkly.

Her hands left his face, moving down his front.

"I wanted to kill him," Allegra mewed in her guilty way. She smiled when he did. "You took the fun out of it."

"Mm, you killed the manager," Joker returned. "With the alarm cords, no less. Wasn't _that_ fun?"

"Well, yeah," she replied but clearly dissatisfied. Allegra's hands moved down his torso, touching underneath his shirt.

"But?" Joker muttered.

"It was...anticlimactic," she purred. Her finger unzipped his pants.

"You don't say."

"I _do_ say. You had more fun than I did. The bitch didn't even scream."

"That's because," Joker mused, taking her hands from him and holding the wrists, "You were strangling him."

Allegra shrugged, smirking at him.

"You can't choke a person and have them scream at the same time; you can't have it both ways," Joker told her coolly. "It's physically impossible."

Joker touched her lips with his briefly, nipping at them.

"I admire your blood lust, Pet," Joker told her affectionately—a lion's purr. "But tone it down, hmm? You'll scare the new recruits before I get any new blood."

She grinned that ear-to-ear smile that Joker found very attractive on her.


	14. The Rest of the Truth

Chapter Fourteen: The Rest of The Truth

A/N: Sorry for the delay; my sister and I have been going all-nighters with Skyrim (great RPG) and now I'm back on track. If I'm out of character, sorry—it's been a while (clearly) since I continued this story; thanks for being so loyal :)

(())

Allegra sat in the living room, watching the television but never really seeing it. The darkness around her was a blanket of quiet; only the light reflecting from the box shown just how deep in thought she really was; a knife sat on her lap as the fingers of her right hand drifted towards the blade, gliding their tips to feel a stinging prick from the point. She made no sign that it hurt, even as the red made a slow drizzle to the handle; she felt it trickle, she felt it sting but her concentration was deeper than televisions or painful pricks. Instead, her eyes were glazed over—a reverie deep.

She didn't hear Joker walking down the stairs, his brown shoes making soft tapping noises on the wooden surface, but escaping her senses completely. The concentration of her unblinking deep brown eyes never faltered; Joker, dressed sharp in collared blue shirt, tucked in blue pants, sat beside Allegra, giving her a cool glance of curiosity. Then his gaze went to the crimson knife on her lap; her left hand was free from the red, but it idly caressed the handle like it was its own extension, and not a weapon of choice.

Joker found this mood peculiar. Never had he seen her so intense in concentration. Her mind was clearly somewhere else as those full lips were pursed, in bitterness...in spite. Her eyes never blinked; her breathing was impeccably still—if not for her lively attitude, Joker would think her a mannequin...a self-harming, beautiful, completely out of her mind, mannequinn.

What a beautiful thing to hang in his shop, Joker amused the thought. He reached over and took the knife from her, wiping her blood from the gleaming edge with a washcloth left on the coffee table—these people could not pick up after themselves. Joker clicked his tongue, placing the blade against the cheek farthest from him and pulled it towards him so her eyes had to meet his...even if they didn't completely see him.

"What's on your mind, bunny?" asked Joker coolly, genuinely interested. She looked at the blade, curious to its existence.

"What?" she mumbled.

"Indeed," said Joker smoothly. He licked his lips and looked at her hand, which was bleeding from their fingertips. She seemed to notice the injury, but had no reaction.

"I was...thinking." Allegra muttered.

"Really?" said Joker. "Are you sure you are not punishing yourself for something?" He indicated the injury, but was more interested than concerned for her behavior. She could be punched over and over like a bag and still she'd arise with the same misty gaze she offered him. It was clear she couldn't feel pain to a certain extent, only the pain she _wanted_ to feel.

He found this interesting...the only word he could use at this point. Joker dropped the blade from her cheek, looking at her.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Joker.

"What do you care?"

"I'm interested."

"Is that it?" asked Allegra coolly, looking at him with an accusatory look.

Joker cocked his head to the side, knowing what she was getting at.

"Hm, are you mad at little old me, Allegra? Have I done something to you that caused some irreparable damage?" he gave her a cool smile. "Something tells me I'm not the cause of your disturbing emotional toil, hm?"

Allegra stared at him. She gazed down at her injury, but made no subtle hint that he was right or wrong. Instead, she frowned.

"Just reminiscing," said Allegra quietly.

"About _what_?" Joker inquired, leaning towards her. He put his hand on her face, admiring the piercing gaze she sent him, the pursed lips, the tension in her cheeks. What was she hiding behind that admirably hard gaze of hers?

Allegra shook her head. She scooted away from him, clearly made uncomfortable at this point. Joker wasn't going to let her go that easy. This was a demonstration of the few moments he could find her weak, a little bit of feminine, female-driven, emotion. The only moment that Joker really could see her as a woman, at one point, a caring, little maiden of sixteen who fought and fought against her deranged, perverted father before hopelessly giving into the demonic revelation that this was her life. Joker wondered if this was the cause of her injury—women cut, men shot themselves. This seemed inarguably the reason why she sat downstairs, alone, in the dark, staring but not seeing, feeling but not pained...angry, but...

"Clearly," said Joker coolly, "you're upset, Bunny. But not by me. I wanna know why."

"You don't care." Allegra muttered. She cuddled close to the arm of the couch, arms moving around her legs. Joker stared at her; talk about weak—she was practically in fetal position. He'd never seen her so uncharacteristically sensitive, so...vulnerable.

Joker stepped off the couch, taking the blade with him. He moved in front of her, standing. She looked up at him, indifferent to his presence. He said nothing; instead, Joker moved her legs apart, yanking them so she would stop fighting against his ministrations, clearly not wanting to be touched, but he overpowered her. He put the blade to her neck, and the other hand caressed her face, his thumb sliding down the jawline.

"You're forgetting your place, Allegra," said Joker. "You're forgetting—stop fighting!-just _who_ you're messing with."

"Kill me," Allegra told him quietly.

Joker looked down at her; it wasn't the first time she'd goaded him into being tempted. But the way she said it—desperate, pleading. It wasn't the same dare she'd given many times before, when he told her he could kill her at any time. This time...this time it was different.

"I'm giving the orders," Joker told her. "You're not in charge of this den, Allegra; I am. You don't question me, and you _cer-tain-ly_ don't have the choice to ignore my questions." He slid his thumb over her bottom lip, completely aroused by the angry glare she sent him.

"You work _for_ me, Allegra," said Joker curtly. "Not with me, and certainly not against me. You get away with a lot more than those other idiots do, mainly because I _let_ you. But I'm just about out of patience, out of reasons to keep you around."

"So kill me."

"No," said Joker coldly. "I'm not going to kill you."

"Why not?"

"Because you want that," Joker returned knowingly. He smirked when she stared at him, faltering her anger for something less stone-faced; her eyes deceived the overwhelming need to cry as they began to swim. Joker smirked.

"I'm dealing with a woman who has a death wish, aren't I?" asked Joker. "That's the reason you joined this odd, dysfunctional family, why you constantly defy me—it makes sense." He traced the blade in his right hand over her left ear, dropping the point just beneath the lobe.

"No." Allegra whispered, but it only confirmed that Joker figured it out.

"No?" repeated Joker, smirking. "I doubt that I'm wrong. You've lived this long, bunny—why not a few more days, hm? Actually, why live at all?"

Allegra stared at him, eyes swimming in her growing tears. She didn't shake. She didn't completely break down, not in front of him. She was stiff underneathe as his hands kept her in place, and his form hardened between her legs. The way she gazed at him—completely fixed. She wasn't afraid of the blade, but of him.

That look she gave him. 'The' look, as they said. An expression of realization crossed his face. He found this too amusing that he uncontrollably laughed for a couple of minutes before he found the seriousness of the situation once more.

"Am I the only thing you have left to hold onto, Allegra?" asked Joker.

She spared him no answer, but the look in her eyes shifted from desperation to instant adoration. "Your father was a real monster, wasn't he?" Joker told her quietly. He dropped his hands from her face and moved them down her shoulders. "A real bastard. What did he do to you, really? Other than touch you, hm? Had to be more than that."

"I don't want to talk about it." Allegra mumbled.

"But _I_ do." Joker drawled. He kissed her neck, and off-handed spin of affection. "Now, speak."

Allegra took him by the shoulders and pushed him off her. He staggered back, hitting the back of his knees against the coffee table so he nearly sat on it; he found his balance beforehand and then before she was able to get away, Joker snatched her arm and wielded her back to him. She slapped him angrily; it took him by surprise.

She didn't move, even after he was disarmed. He looked at her, eyes blazing, but she didn't move, not even an attempt to run.

"_What is your problem_," Joker growled, taking her by the shoulders and nailing her down the floor; she grunted with the impact of her back against the wooden floor; he straddled her, daring to choke her to death as he wrapped his hands around her neck; the tv reflected light against the dark, and made their couple's fight darker than intended...or just dark enough.

She scratched at his hands, nails digging deep. Joker smacked them away as her face slowly turning from the pale color to a light shade of pink, then red, and then purple. She began coughing, gagging...panicked.

Her legs kicked underneathe him, attempting to get him off. She was a fighter—Joker had to give her that.

"You killed your father; I killed mine. We have so much in common, so _why_ fight!" Joker stated, looking at her incredulously. "You wanna die, Allegra—let go!"

She didn't; instead, she fought harder.

"Let go!" Joker shouted, his voice deep and dangerous.

Allegra shook her head slightly, trapped by his grip as his thumbs barred down on her throat, causing her to gasp, sputter, and gag. She was turning deep shades of purple.

"You're not telling me all of your story, Allegra," Joker managed, dodging her swipe. "What. Did. He. Do."

Allegra nodded her head furiously, and managed words, but found none. Joker let go of her neck and she coughed, attempting to inhale oxygen to fill her lungs. She held her throat, and Joker watched her cry. Joker still sat on her, waiting for her to answer him.

"Answer me, Allegra," said Joker dangerously.

Allegra looked up at him, tear droplets rolling down her cheeks.

"He raped me." Allegra muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

Joker looked down at her, knowing this was the worst.

"See," said Joker lightly. He moved his hand through her hair, smiling. "That's all I wanted to know, Allegra. You made it harder than it was needed."

Joker got off her, sitting on the couch. Allegra remained on the ground, breathing hard, attempting to get any amount of air she could snag immediately. She moved towards Joker, standing on her knees as she moved between his legs. Joker was surprised but satisfied when she put her head on his knee, her hands on his legs.

She was attempting to get on his good side again. Joker watched her look at him, eyes watery but all the same, their orbs ever deepening with a feminine need for closeness.

"Bad pets aren't worth having around if they don't heed their masters," Joker told Allegra. He looked at her pointedly.

He moved his hand to her head, entangling his fingers in her brunette locks, following one of them to the split ends, then to her face. He smirked when she titled her head so his fingers rested on her lips. She put her hand over his fingers, and her lips enveloped the index. The smirk on his face deepened when her tongue circled it.

"Are you a good bunny?" Joker asked softly.

She moved her hands from his knees, up his thighs, and to his belt, undoing it wordlessly. Her fingers unzipped him, and then her mouth met them halfway. She showed him what a good bunny she could be, satisfying him in the best use of the word. When she'd finished, Joker smiled at her.

"Atta girl," Joker purred.

Allegra smiled—that ear-to-ear grin stretching across her face. That's the Allegra he knew.


	15. Who Kills Whom

Chapter Fifteen: Who Kills Whom

A/N: thank ya for the reviews! The story is gradually getting into the spin of events in 'The Dark Knight'. I never like to speed it up, just to sink into it. Ya know the saying: "You have to preheat the oven, before sticking in the turkey" (this is from American Pie, for those who don't know).

(())

The sun rose. It was going to be the second raid of the Second National Bank. Bear, Specs, James, Kyle, and Lenny were walking around downstairs, hands sweating and legs shaking, knowing what they were about to do. It was a Mob's bank. All of them would be stealing from one of the greatest mobsters around—Maroni. Well, it was really Falcone's share, bu since the poor sap was now embedded in a cell at Asylum, declared insane, it'd passed onto Maroni, an Italian, blue-eyed chap.

James and Bear sat on the couch, playing a game of poker. James smoked a cigarette—nicotine was a good way to suppress that extra, unnecessary adrenaline, while his poker pal, Bear, a big man, stared at his cards uncertainly. It was a good game, great hands—but the knowing of what lied ahead of them, that was uncertain. It wouldn't have been too bad if it wasn't for the information the Joker had told him while he had been separated from the gang.

"This is going to be big," said James quietly. Uncharacteristically nervous, James had a habit of dragging one too many times of the cancer stick before tossing it to the trash can, finding it time to stop the inevitable fire hazard; it wasn't like him to create such a hazard even when the task ahead was making him nervous. He'd dare shoot the bankers if any of them tried to intervene; James wasn't biased of shooting people—he just preferred to do it in good sport. Joker wasn't a sporting man. That was a bad rap for all of them.

Kyle was dressed in a blue suit, thanks to Joker's recommendation. They were all dressed in weird clothing, just to pull off that kind of 'weird' look, since they'd all be wearing clown masks. One mask for the each of them. Joker never said 'why'. There never was a 'why'. Even if there was, Kyle had learned never to ask the clown to explain. Kyle sat in a chair, backwards, watching Bear and James play poker; he wasn't concerned with them. But Specs, a medium-sized, somewhat large, man, sat at a computer, looking up cute babes. Specs made him nervous. Kyle knew what he'd have to do after Specs unarmed the alarm system; he'd have to shoot him...or at least, that's what the Joker instructed. No way was Kyle going to say 'no'. Kyle would hack the vault with James, and they'd get the money, bring it back.

Specs sat in the chair, admiring the boxom babes online. Besides Lenny, he had the easiest job; hacking the alarm system, right on the roof. No one expected anyone to hang glide to the roof. Done deal, job, Specs knew.

Lenny walked around aimlessly. He wasn't nervous like the rest. After all, Joker told him he'd be driving the bus into the wall. Had to pick up on the speed beforehand but Lenny was good for it. Done deal, like Specs said. Done deal. They'd split the money five ways...well...six ways, Joker included.

Even while all of them knew their part of the role—that was relief on their part—they knew what would happen after the other man did their job. What they didn't know was that _all_ of them had been given the same order...shoot the man after he's finished, then go to the next part of the plan. What an odd plan, but a plan none the less.

Allegra was upstairs, decking out in black, slim high heels, flared bloodred skirt which she smoothed down as she stood in front of a mirror in Joker's bedroom. She held some vanity in her dark brown eyes as she admired her reflection; she pulled over a long-sleeved shirt-; the colors of black and white split for either part of the shirt. Her costume affect at the look of Queen of Hearts, which was what she'd been going for; the mask of white over her face with red diamonds painted over her eyes, and black lipstick (all provided by her lover) just _screamed_ Queen of Hearts, or maybe a bit of insanity. Allegra grinned; she didn't mind. There was a kind of seduction in the way she stood in front of the mirror, she recognized. Denial didn't become her as Allegra _knew_ she was sexy in the get-up.

Her orders were 'look pretty'. Joker had been vague with that concern. He'd go in as 'Joker', she'd go in as 'Queen'. Her smile widened in its chaotic psychosis. What a thrill it'd be. Her hands were smeared with red, white, and black makeup, knowingly because of the artwork she provided on her face.

There was a knock on the door, unnecessarily done as Joker came in with or without her permission. Luckily, Allegra was ready. Hearing him, she didn't look to see if he was coming or just checking on her. Joker was ready, evidently; charcoal-ringed eyes, a creepy ear-to-ear bloodred grin, and white face met her reflection in the mirror. The expression on his face ringed satisfaction.

"You clean up well," Joker told her, smirking at her reflection. "Queen of Hearts?"

"Mm-hmm," Allegra returned. She turned to him. "What do ya think?"

"Bold." Joker replied. He glanced downward. "Especially the heels."

Allegra grinned.

"The men are downstairs," said Joker, back to his business-like voice (which Allegra adored). "We make our transaction this afternoon. You know your part?"

"Memorized," Allegra returned. She drew closer to him, her hands fiddling with his collar.

"Tell me." Joker ordered.

"I come with you to the bank, and James. Tie a few hands, undo a few grenades, and then meet Bear at the vault."

"Then?" Joker asked quietly. There was a tinge of arousal in his voice, as he spoke. The look in his eyes made Allegra's skin crawl.

"Kill him." Allegra said lightly.

"Good." Joker said. "At any rate," (he joined his hands with hers, holding them) "we'll be down five pests."

"Are you sure you wanna get rid of Kyle?" asked Allegra.

"Why not?" asked Joker.

"He's...so young."

"Don't get attached to them," Joker told her. "Not all children were meant to be adopted, particularly by you. Personally, I wouldn't mind having more time spent with Mommy than dealing with those expendable brats."

"Aw, that's so sweet." Allegra cooed. "What about Lenny?"

"He drives the bus in," Joker told her.

"Are you killing him too?"

"Most likely." Joker returned.

"You tell him that?"

"Of course not. Even if I did, he's too dim to be aware of his own surroundings, never the less, his fate." Joker purred.

He saw the downcast look.

"What's with the face?" asked Joker as she turned from him.

"The nest will be so quiet without them having bar fights downstairs." Allegra stated.

"We'll get others," said Joker. "In time."

"I don't want others. I want to at least keep one in the nest." Allegra complained, although the detection in her voice was only half-serious.

"They all have to leave at some point. Call this their graduation."

Allegra felt him come from behind, his arms wrapping around her waist. She leaned her head back on the crook of his shoulder; at that point, he kissed her briefly. It was brief, but intense. Hard, and passionate. Allegra looked at him.

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked quietly.

"I said it's a graduation, not a party." Joker told her. Surprisingly, she didn't take it to heart, as she smiled.

"You shouldn't have." Allegra mewed. Her response made Joker smile.

"They'll kill each other one by one," Joker informed. "Bear kills James. Kyle and Specs will be in the vault. Kyle will kill Specs, Bear kills Kyle, and then when Bear meets you half-way, you kill him."

"With a gun?"

"However you choose."

"Knife, then."

"If that's what you choose," Joker replied.

"Can I tape it?"

"What?"

"Can I film?" asked Allegra darkly.

Joker's eye lit up.

"Babe, you are the greatest." Joker purred. He kissed her again.

He walked to the door.

"You never gave me an answer," Allegra called after him.

"Like I said," Joker responded at the door, "Do it however you choose. Either way, I'll be pleased."

He winked at her, then walked downstairs to give the 'let's go'. Allegra looked at the mirror. Then slowly, ever so slowly, a malevolent grin stretched from ear-to-ear.


	16. Without a Hitch

Chapter Sixteen: Without a Hitch

Disclaimer: This story is based around the plot of Dark Knight, but I'm shifting it to match my story. Joker belongs to DC comics; I just love the man too much. Making no profit from this.

Author's Note: I was going to do a drive by scene (and this happened, blah blah blah) but I was in a James Bond mood so this kinda followed that writing style. Hoped it was fun for you readers as it was fun for me writing this. As usual, review please, or don't. But I update faster with reviews.

Joker and Allegra stood on the sidewalk, silently awaiting the drive-by. Thirty minutes, tops, and then they'd pile in—the other five would be in, wearing masks, unrecognizable for the most part. The hit? They wouldn't know he was there, but alas, Allegra—no one could mistake her. She could hide her face under an ugly, misshapen mask, tie her hair up in a frivolous tight bum, but to Joker, there was no mistaking her bodacious figure...or that _scent_. She always smelled of fresh lavender. No idea why, even when she hadn't bathed for a few days or was knee-deep in gun powder, there was always that lavender smell.

Joker stood beside Allegra, who still wore her mask—it was the face of Bashful, hardly befitting her personality but it looked...good. He gave her a side-glance and from her expressive eyes, he knew she completely understood the motive. Get rid of the garbage, get the money, drive out without a hitch. Towards the end, they'd start from scratch, and if there was a dent in this plan, Joker would improvise—he always could, and normally did. Even without the necessity.

Allegra looked down at her wrist, knowingly at her watch. A joke on her part—she never wore watches, never cared for time. Joker smirked; she referred to time as an illusion.

"Little late, aren't they?" Allegra asked, her voice slightly muffled from the mask.

"Give it time, darling," Joker mused, looking at the left where the car would be coming. "Never start worrying until the time calls for it."

She scoffed, saying, "Time is an illusion."

"I spoke metaphorically," Joker returned dully. He gave her a look.

She shrugged in response.

In ten minutes, the car pulled up. Silently, they got in, not so much as a word. Joker in his mask, and Allegra in hers. No reason to doubt who she was under that mask—her Queen of Hearts get-up gave her away. The men, Bear, Kyle, James, and Specs were in the car. Joker wondered where the fifth went...then he remember—Lenny was the bus driver.

"Breaking into a mob bank," Bear's voice was clearly heard from his mask; he drove.

"It'll be worth it, right?" Kyle asked from the passenger's seat. Despite his mask, Joker could hear the anxiety—the boy couldn't hide his feelings under any circumstances...what a yutz.

"Sure, we break in, get the money—easy." James growled under his mask—he always got like this before a heist, breaking in the nerves, getting up the adrenaline rush.

A natural thief, a _true_ criminal, didn't need that extra boost to do what must be done. Joker knew he was better off without the man. What an amatuer.

"Pay-off will be good," said Specs, from beside Allegra. "Five shares, not bad."

"Technically, seven," James reminded.

"Seven?"

"Don't forget the man who brought out this gig," said Bear grumpily.

"And his girlfriend," said Kyle.

"She's not even on this shit," said James.

Allegra leaned forward to say otherwise (as if the dress wasn't enough to point out that clearly she was in on it), but Joker put a hand on her thigh closest to him. She glanced at him briefly, from her dark eyes of the mask and Joker shook his head slightly. Allegra made a scathing noise, but remained quiet.

"Man thinks he can sit at his desk and take a slice," said Bear unhappily. "Now I know why they call him the Joker."

"Yeah," laughed Kyle, "And the bitch is his queen."

Allegra made another scathing noise. Joker felt the same way. Really, they couldn't tell she was a girl—the Queen of Hearts outfit, the buxom figure in the back. Seriously?

Joker frowned. Yep, he was better off without the incompetent fools. This was only making it easier to get them all under ground before the next few hours were up. Allegra, on the other hand, looked a bit distraught. Under that mask, Joker knew she was frowning. That, and her arms crossed treacherously.

The guys didn't like her as much as she'd been led to believe. Unknownst to them, Allegra was just convinced that they were better off dead too.

They got out of the car, one by one. Led off by one another as they went to do their tasks. Two ascended to the roof—Kyle, and Specs. James came with Joker, following close behind, all carrying duffel bags. Meanwhile, Bear diverged to the vaults, being missed. Joker and James distracted the bankers, cashiers, women, children, men, as Allegra followed through quietly behind Bear. Her footsteps, despite their heavy heels, were disdainfully quiet. Joker watched after her; maybe it was a inner sense of protection for his generous conquest, or the fact she was a key asset to this operation...or something else, but he didn't care to understand that bit. When she disappeared, Joker turned to the tasks ahead of him—tying hands, threatening lives, the usual.

On the roof, Kyle and Specs were disabling the alarm system. Kyle shifted on his feet as Specs undid the alarm, and when it began dialing out to a different source (not the regular 911), Specs noted it aloud.

"That a problem?" asked Kyle in a hoarse voice (the nerves were getting to him). He held out a gun, ready to disable the man permanently.

"Don't think so," said Specs.

"Good." Kyle muttered. He pulled the trigger, closing his eyes when he did. Specs fell down, dead.

"Heads down, hands out, and I don't want anyone doing anything except holding onto their lives!" James called to everyone, aiming his gun at a variety of people as Joker, disguised as a common criminal (the thought disgusted him deeply), walked around, tying hands, undoing grenades, and the like.

From the opposing side, a man shot a shotgun, and Joker and James got to their knees, then rolled over as the leading mobster began shooting.

"Do you have any idea who you're stealing from!" he snapped. "You and your friends are dead!"

Joker smirked from behind his mask: the term 'friends' was _very_ ironic at this point.

Bear was turning the vault, holding it precariously as it opened. The electrodes had finally worn out; all that was needed was to undo the system, break inside, and start piling the money. Easy, peezy. Bear grumbled something about wanting the whole stack, but it'd be impossible to get it all in these duffel bags, even if they'd brought enough to steal nearly a million and a half. This joker-guy could have broken a different bank if this was what they were heading for...or maybe bring more duffel bags.

Bear undid the alarm, opening the door.

"We're gonna need a lot more bags," said Bear.

"I have one," said a voice from behind.

Bear turned to see Allegra, mask off, beautifully dressed in a suave sexy costume of the Queen of Hearts. She even had the make-up squared off to a 'T'. In her left hand, she held a duffel bag. In the right, she aimed a gun at him.

"You." Bear muttered. "I thought we were a great deal closer than this."

"Hardly," laughed Allegra. She smirked. "I think at one point we could have been friends but if all I am to you and your friends is a 'bitch', then I guess our friendship meant less than what I'd originally been led to believe."

"You talk a lot," Bear growled. He aimed to get his gun from his left, but Allegra pulled back the cock, glaring at him.

"Don't try it, hotshot."

"What are you gonna do, shoot me? He's just gonna do the same to you."

"Doubt it." Allegra said. "I've been wanting to die for a long time. He's not that generous." She pulled the trigger and the man fell down, dead like the others. She gave him a brief look of remorse, but then turned to the banks. "Not as generous as the mob." She stepped over him, then kicked him aside. She piled the money in the duffel bags, humming a hymn she'd hummed many years ago.

Allegra came back to the lobby with five duffel bags—two on each shoulder, and one draped across her neck. A man laid on the ground, injured. He'd been shot, most likely by James as Joker was preoccupied with gathering the duffel bags in one pile. James cocked the gun, aiming it at Joker.

"I bet the Joker told you to kill me once we loaded the cash."

Allegra snuck from behind James, eyes glaring at the back of his head. From inside her blouse, she withdrew a pocket knife, clicking the button as she came closer to him. Joker stepped aside, and said quietly, "No, no, no, I kill the bus driver."

James stared at him blankly: "Bus driver?"

Joker stepped a little more to the side.

"What bus driver?" James snapped. In three seconds, Allegra got up right behind him, snapped back his head and slit his throat. At the same time, a bus drove into the wall in reverse, slamming the two back against the toppled bricks and damaged tile. A man got out—Lenny, remarking about the money and then seeing Allegra slicing James' neck, he began to speak, not before getting shot in the head by Joker. Side shots—kill shots.

Joker looked at Allegra, who was relishing the look on James' face as her blade sunk deeper into his throat.

"You bitch!" James gargled.

"That is the nicest thing anyone's ever told me," Allegra mused. She kissed his cheek, then he drowned of his blood. She pushed him off her, shoving him aside.

Lenny was dead on the ground, a bullet in between the eyes of his mask. Allegra frowned. She didn't care most of them, not even Kyle. But Lenny...she wished he didn't have to die so horribly. Then again, it'd been quick—that was better.

"Put the bags on the bus," said Joker.

Allegra nodded obediently, doing as he said. Joker watched her briefly, about to get on before one of the injured started yammering some shit about common criminals and morality. He sighed warily, not in the mood for the banter, but this was just so amusing. He got down on his knees, and pulled off his mask.

"Criminals in these parts used to believe in things—honor, respect. What do you believe in, huh? What do you believe in!" the man shouted—fearful, and yet, pissed off.

Joker put a grenade in his mouth saying, "What I believe is what doesn't kill you simply makes you stranger." He grinned briefly, then stood to his feet. "Come on, Queen. Time to go."

Allegra smirked as Joker gave her a swift kiss on the cheek then piled onto the bus. Allegra waved at the mob man, then flipped backwards on the bus too, closing the doors on her way out. She stood at the back, watching the traffic follow in behind as the police showed up (as usual) late. They were out, they were in.

Allegra glanced to see Joker in the driver's seat. Allegra moved up the seats so she sat behind him.

"Honey."

Joker looked at her from the rearview mirror.

"Yes?"

Allegra handed him a knife. "Thanks for the borrow."

"I didn't let you borrow..." Joker began, looking at the knife caked in James' blood. He felt in his suddenly empty pockets, and then gave her a knowing look. "Stop that, Allegra—save it for the mob."

Allegra smirked.


	17. Women

Chapter Seventeen: Women

(())

Nightfall fell on the same day of the robbery. Joker wasn't about to spend the money...just yet. Not only was he tired, he wanted to watch the news. It'd be spectacular when the police got there and half of the mob's dabloons had vanished—not to mention the anger settling in the mobsters' hearts when they learned their life savings had been taken from a two-bit clown (as Joker had come to understand, that's what his group had been calling him behind his back) and his lovely assistant, Allegra Von (or as the police had labeled her, 'Queen' Allegra Von).

Joker brushed a hand through scraggly green hair, opting to sit in the middle of the couch as he watched the news, reported by Gotham's own leading Mike Engel.

"Today, Gotham's Second National Bank was robbed by several men disguised in clown masks. Police have found five of the acclaimed seven criminals dead—four of them shot, and one sliced by the throat. Due to the gruesome acts of these deaths, Police have detained and the media has agreed that these shots will not be taken. Thankfully, there were no casualties, for save a man injured in the line of fire; however, two robbers had gotten away, a man claiming to be the 'Joker' dressed in clown make-up, and what seems to be his accomplice, a woman who goes by the name of 'Queen', dressed in a Queen of the Hearts costume.

"Police have no comments pointing to the location of these two masked criminals but acclaim they are working diligently to catch these convicts before any more harm comes to the public. Citizens of Gotham are advised."

Mike Engel shown two shots of Joker, who was grinning generously at the camera, and one of Allegra, waving at said camera. Her beautifully applied make-up was smudged here and there from the blood splatter offered from the bleeding neck of James. The mug shots of the dead family was caught on camera. Joker shook his head—the news was always depressing; they could do to have bright colored folk walking around with balloons tied to their heads, and reporting the dreaded news.

Joker would laugh, and that's all that mattered to him, as long as it amused him.

Allegra walked down the stairs, applying a cool rag to her face, wiping off the blood and make-up. Like him, she looked tired. The adrenaline rush really came down with a crash when after the excitement dulled to satisfaction. Joker smiled when she sat beside him; her legs, dressed in fishnets, pulled up onto the coffee table. However, Joker picked her legs up in his arms and moved them so they laid across his lap. She gave him a curious look, but didn't proceed to ask why.

"You count it yet?" asked Joker, referring to the obvious.

"Yeah," Allegra returned. "One-million, five hundred, sixty-two. Exactly."

"I'm surprised we don't have change," said Joker, laughing.

"I can give you my two-cents if it'd make you feel better." Allegra offered, but she was clearly joking. "With the deadbeats gone, how will you recruit?"

Joker gave her an obvious gaze, saying, "Weren't you a viable connection to the stripper joint?"

"Well, yeah." Allegra returned.

"Recruit there."

"A bunch of strippers and a few bouncers? I don't think that'll be much of an army."

"I don't build armies," Joker replied. "Armies are for militant control-junkies. Me? I like a few sprites, who do what they do for the hell of it, not for profit. I'm not interested in the hiring, just the pay-off."

Allegra lifted her legs as she sat up. Joker saw the expression on her face.

"Let me guess—you don't want to get your friends involved with a guy like me?" mocked Joker.

"No. It's not that."

"Then why the reluctance?" He let the last syllable run off his tongue, like a serpent seducing an ignorant mouse. Maybe Allegra wasn't _so_ ignorant...maybe that's the reason he was interested in her opinion, for he didn't take in account other's ideas so easily. What made her so useful was that she never offered her opinion willy nilly, only when he asked. And that was attractive.

"They're pretty." Allegra muttered.

This made Joker laugh as he leaned towards her.

"Aww, are you jealous that one of your half-naked cohorts may wean me away from you?" asked Joker. "I never thought you to be the jealous type."

"Highly," she corrected.

"Don't worry about that." Joker replied serenely. "You may only worry if I find someone more deviant than you. The odds of that happening—with your past and what I've seen so far—is highly unlikely. Granted, the rates of daddies molesting their daughters and mothers with their sons, is _so_ high, I have to wonder if I may be wrong about that."

Allegra frowned, saying, "You think my past is a joke?"

"I think it's a hoot," replied the Joker honestly. "You want pity, there's the door. I'm not a sympathizer of humanity, sugar cakes. What the world has done to you to make who you are—that's what I like."

"You have no pity for me?" asked Allegra incredulously.

"None at all. Life's been good to _me_." He indicated his scars. "In fact, I wouldn't change it for all the gold in Fort Knox. No, Kitten, Darling, Dear—I'd keep my face as intricately impossible as it is, and as for your _past_..." He put his hand on her chin, just along her jaw. "You're as fucked up as the world can allow you to be—anything worse is just gravy."

Allegra gave him a round of expressions: confusion, hate, love, anger...then, appreciation.

"That's the most insulting and beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me." Allegra muttered. "But I figured you'd say that."

"Really?" Joker asked, chuckling. "I must be falling into a rut."

He leaned forward, kissing her briefly on the cheek, then to her mouth. She responded, as expected, but with something darker than lust. When he opened his eyes to see her expression, there was something different in the brown eyes of hers. Although her face was stained from red diamonds and black lipstick, it had the fresh look about her. The look he received was something far more deeper than lust. And for this, Joker backed off.

"Time to go to bed, Allegra." He said lightly.

"Afraid of commitment?" Allegra asked.

"Not at all." Joker returned. "I told you that the odds of me being drawn to another stripper would be slim. In my opinion, that's all the commitment I need. Now." He touched her lips with his index finger. "Do what I say, and go to bed."

"Hide it all you want, Killer. Pretend it isn't so," she purred as he stood. She joined him on her feet. Her lips lingered just a centimeter before his; her chest pressed against his chest. He could feel her body heat.

"But I know you feel exactly the way I do." Allegra told him.

"I don't love anyone, Allegra," Joker told her pointedly. "If that's what you are here for, I suggest you take a gun to your temple, because it's only torture to want what is never there to begin with."

"I never said 'love'." Allegra replied. She smirked deviously. She kissed him on the lips, slow, tender, but there was a meaning behind it.

Joker didn't return it. She backed off.

"You're treading on deep water," Joker said dangerously.

"I'm a good swimmer." Allegra mused. She winked at him, then walked up the stairs to bed.

Joker looked after her.

_Women._


	18. Illusional Love

Chapter Eighteen: Illusional Love

A/N: Read this chapter, but don't be fooled. Allegra isn't a simpering little girl. :) Read and review, and anticipate the next chapter, lovelies.

(())

Allegra lied in bed, eyes closed but her mind was completely polar. What she had started out with Joker had slowly and unfortunately resolved to something completely different. 'Love' was hard to come by, and in order for 'love' to happen, it had to be mutual. Joker didn't love her—not a tragedy nor a happy ending, at best. And she didn't love him. Or maybe she did, and the best thing to do was pretend she didn't, therefore lying to herself over and over until she believed the lie was actual truth.

Her talk downstairs made it only worse—he thought what she wanted to think at the same time. When James had been aiming the weapon at Joker's head, Allegra was more than happy to slit the bastard's throat—sure out of sport and play, but also because he deserved it. If anyone was going to hit him where it hurt, it'd be her.

Allegra smiled. Joker would probably feel the same way. At the very best, he kept her around even while killing the rest of their family. Surely, that meant something, even if it really seemed like nothing. No one could rightly tell her the Joker loved 'no one'. Even someone like him had to feel something for someone at some point in time. Even if they were children.

Then again, the worst happens to the best of them.

Lost in her reverie, Allegra didn't hear the footsteps in the room. She didn't hear the moving of covers, or the feel the shift of the weight in her bed. What startled her eyes to open just a hint was the hand on her shoulder. His hand.

"I'm in no mood." Allegra muttered.

"Oh good. You're awake." Joker mused from behind. She turned to look at him, giving him the dirtiest look she could.

"Mm, what's with the evil eye?" asked Joker, chuckling. Even in the darkness, she could see his deviated smile. The moonlight offered a shed of sight, but only slightly. Allegra could only see the left side of his face, for the other was encased in the shadow.

She didn't answer him, not immediately anyway. His smile faltered a hint, as he licked his lips knowingly.

"Don't tell me you think this is some fairy tale." Joker stated deeply. "You're old enough to know that this isn't going to change. Changing me isn't going to fix your theory of a happy ending, no matter how distorted."

"I'm not trying to change you," said Allegra. She lay her head on the pillow, eyes searching his. "I like you the way you are."

"Cue the cameras, I think it's a soap opera now." Joker stated sardonically. He balanced his weight on his side, on the elbow of his right, looking down at her. "Cut the crap, Allegra. You women are all the same. What starts out as topical business somehow, whether you want it to or not, turns into some constructed, distorted, belligerent mess in order to make my world, 'yours'."

He gesticulated to himself, her, and then the bed as a whole. Allegra gave him a curious look.

"I don't want a happy ending." Allegra told him.

Joker laughed, louder than what was appropriate but he couldn't help himself.

"Now, I know _that's_ a lie," he chortled. He sat up so his back was against the headboard; Allegra realized he was bare-chested. She smiled on the inside, but the frown remained.

"Call it what you want," said Allegra, matching him. "I'm not looking for a happy ending. If I was, I wouldn't be here. Nor with you. You're a foul, crazy, mistaken criminal with a love for chaos and everything no body likes. You steal for shits and giggles, and don't care how it affects anyone else as long as it amuses you. Whatever you do is only logical to you, and if someone disagrees, they're damned."

Joker smirked at her, but the false grin seemed scarier than his actual frown. Why? It didn't reach his eyes.

"You're not telling me anything a poor little pig has told me, Allegra. In fact, that's not as decorative an insult most prostitutes or naïve rookies have told me." Joker returned coolly. "If you know all this, why do you insist there's something more between us?"

"I'm not saying there is."

"You're not saying there isn't." Joker returned darkly.

She stared at him, uncertain as to what to say next.

"Tell me, Allegra, what _ex-act-ly_ kind of relationship with me did you have in mind when you pickpocketed my things and then killed my associate?"

"You wanted him dead."

"Don't diverge from the conversation," Joker told her coldly. "I didn't think you'd be any different than any woman I've recruited or worked with before. You all shoot down the rabbit hole when a man says they don't love you back."

"I never said I loved you."

"I never said whom." Joker responded coolly. He smirked when Allegra lost his eye contact. "I know you feel for me, Allegra. I'm a cold-blooded killer, not a first-timer tugging the girdle of a schoolgirl."

"So why not say you feel the same for me?" asked Allegra quietly.

"Because I don't."

"Oh well," Allegra mused sarcastically, "it's nice to know you'll tell me the truth right to my face."

"Truth hurts. I'm fond of it." Joker stated. He saw Allegra frown, but the frown wasn't anger. It was disappointment.

"Put it in the open, dollface," said Joker curtly. "I'm not here to be your knight and shining armor. I'm your boss, you're my employee. I feel nothing for you, except an equal amount of fondness. If you get caught in the line of fire, I won't go into a mad state of depression when you're dead. I'll step over it and get on with life because frankly, Allegra, everyone will do the same in a crisis.

"I put my insides on the outside, so you know what you're getting, dollface." Joker purred. He indicated his scars. "What you see, is what you get. I don't plan on changing myself just to appease your female-driven, hormonal-based infatuation with me."

"I said I didn't want you to change," Allegra protested.

"Then why are we arguing?"

Allegra half-smiled. "I love to hear you talk."

Joker stared at her. _That_ surprised him.

"I'm sorry, what?" Joker finally asked.

"I know what I'm getting into," said Allegra, changing from a sniffling schoolgirl to the Allegra he was used to hearing. Her voice was back to being its seductive, superficial tone and Joker was a bit surprised by the way she changed so quickly.

"Ahh," Joker realized what was happening. "Decided to act vulnerable to see my reaction, hm?"

Allegra shrugged saying, "Not all of it was a hoax."

"Which part?"

"The part when I said I don't want you to change. I like you exactly as you are." She put her hand on his chin, much like the way he did to her. "Sometimes, though, I wish you wouldn't hold me back."

She kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

"There's a saying my father used to tell me, right before he touched me." Allegra muttered softly.

Joker found her tone strange for someone referring to a perverted father—it was almost affectionate.

"What's that?" asked Joker.

" 'If you're gonna bark, bark loud'." Allegra recited. She kissed him softly.

He returned it.

"Your father was stupid," said Joker pointedly.

She looked at him asking, "Why do you say that?"

Joker moved her so she was below him, holding her sides as he kissed her mouth, then slipped his tongue between her lips to deepen the kiss, against her permission but she seemed satisfied. Allegra lifted her legs around his hips, her foot brushed against his leg.

"His motto was partially entertaining but mine is a lot better," said Joker.

"Oh yeah?" asked Allegra. She giggled quietly when he reached behind her and grabbed her rump. "What's yours?"

"Don't bark. Wait..." Joker purred in a low, deep voice. "Then bite."

He brought a knife from his back, and within a minute he had etched the letter 'J' into her hip, blood seeping from the wound on the covers and sheets. Not once did Allegra cry out or scream, except for a soft grunt when the knife first embedded into her skin. When he'd finished carving, Allegra looked up at him, a single tear falling down her cheek. Joker waited for her reaction.

She simply grinned, ear-to-ear. Joker chuckled, and kissed her once more, drifting his lips to her ear and whispering, "Now you really are mine."

Allegra smiled at him, then passed out from shock.


	19. A Stormy Night

Chapter Nineteen: Stormy Night

A/N: This chapter is _really_ dark, but it kind of defines the relationship...I guess. Not sure, but we're overdue for a dark, dark moment with Allegra and her past. So here it is. I love Joker's reaction though; I thought it was totally on the spot.

(())

Allegra did cartwheels, slow and paced in the back yard of the not-so-abandoned house. While the electricity bills and other assorted payments came in with Joker's surname on them (Jack Napier, whether or not it was just an alias or true name, Allegra never bothered to ask), the house seemed quieter since the boys had 'retired'. It gave her time to practice her flexibility, to bend in ways she found familiar. Joker was inside, making a plan of his next move on the mob and police. Why was he doing this? Allegra wasn't for certain that the 'why' really mattered. She'd go along with it whether that be proving something to the cops or mob, or just festive fun—it didn't matter to her, clearly.

She paid less attention to the 'why', and more attention to the 'how', and 'where'. When it came to killing, it was more of a 'how', than a 'whom'. In any situation, Allegra proved to be aloof when necessary even last night had put Joker off—she was only kidding around about the "_why don't you love me back!_" scenario. However, she truly _was_ severely infatuated with him. Love, no. Every time he showe his face, grinned, frowned, or whatever expression he sent her, Allegra felt chills. Arousal found her every time he touched her, spoke to her, and that smirk...oh, that smirk would make her legs all jelly, or jam.

"Maybe butter." Allegra mused aloud as she planted the somersault perfectly. There was a rumbling, a deep roll of thunder ahead as she looked up to see some large grey clouds, threateningly hovering over Gotham City. A storm was brewing.

"_Hush dear, hush love, here's your gown_," Allegra hummed as she'd hummed many years in the past, "_There's the bed. Lantern's down. I don't want to go to sleep; in all my dreams, I drown!"_

She gave a once-over look at the sky again, eyes darkening at the sight. It was on this kind of day her father had that 'feeling' to do odd things in the closet. At one point, Allegra remembered being ignorant to his ministrations as normal until she realized what he felt and what she'd felt were two different things, the wrong, and the wrong. Allegra frowned.

"_Like Jonah we'll be swallowed whole, and spat back teeth and bones. He said now hush now, hush love, here's your gown. There's the bed. Lantern's down. I'm begging you please wake me up; in all my dreams I..."_ Allegra shivered—at the sudden gust of wind and at the way the song always ended. There was never a finishing of that sentence, that small lined lyric always gave her the cold chills.

"Happy Father's Day, Dad," Allegra muttered, looking down at the ground. "Hope it's hotter down there than it is up here." She crossed her arms against the cold, and walked back into the house where a warmer atmosphere welcomed her.

She sat on the kitchen counter, restless. The storm made her antsy. Memories came that should have gone long ago. Along with those deviant images of her father and herself locked in a closet for hours playing 'pat-a-cake' while her mother drunk herself blind downstairs in the living room, Allegra had remembered on a same night as this, she'd peeled potatoes. And the peeler found a different rotten vegetable to skin. Allegra smiled involuntarily. What bad memories came to her, good memories sometimes accompanied. It was damn near bittersweet.

That was a long time from now. Nearly some umpteen years. Anymore, they were like nightmares—sometimes, she could only remember bits and pieces until it became such a blur she could almost pretend it never happened. Other days...well...like today...Allegra remembered _every single moment_.

Sometimes, Allegra could help it. She'd push it away, and then it'd be gone for a few weeks. Today wasn't so easy. The rumbling of the thunder, the pattering of the rain, the soft banging of the window panes as they tapped against the glass. This storm was particularly going to be a doozy. Allegra glanced at the drawer beside her knee. She'd stopped the habit a few years ago, but it wasn't like she'd make it habit again. Just a few seconds of pain was she needed to simply...to simply...

"Forget." Allegra muttered.

She searched through the drawer, finding anything sharp. Her finding was a potato peeler and a small knife for buttering bread. She grinned. Was it morbid to think it'd only be ironic to die from the very object with which she'd murdered her father so brutally? Morbid...and also a knee-slapper.

Allegra took the potato peeler against her hand, the pointed blade right in the palm. The rest of the handle was cradled by her other hand and she gradually pushed the blade into the bullseye, slower, deeper, hard as possible. What welcomed her was pain, but then relief. The memories shifted to her hand skinning her father's manhood so he remained a sobbing, crying, dying little girl.

The blood seeped down her fingers as her hand rested on her lap. It drizzled, like the rain that dropped from a window sill. Allegra was not much of a bleeder, but the harsh tip of a rusty potato peeler made it so much more worth it to see red thicknesss ease out of her hand. She smiled at the substance.

"Did it help?"

Allegra glanced up to see Joker standing at the entrance of the kitchen, arms folded over his chest as his shoulder leaned against the doorway. One leg crossed the other so if he was flipping a shiny dime or smoking a cigar, he'd look the perfect cast role of a stereotypical loan shark. Allegra looked at him plainly, not ashamed that she'd been caught.

"Not really." Allegra replied. "Felt like a mosquito."

Joker shook his head, walking towards her. He sighed a bit, more out of a tire than disappointment or disgust. He placed the potato peeler in the sink, and withdrew from the same drawer she'd taken it a few bandages, scissors. From the next drawer down, he pulled out a first aid kit, small enough to fit in a purse.

"Let it bleed." Allegra stated, moving her hand from his reach.

"I'm not taking you to the emergency room," Joker threatened. "You'll die if you don't get it fixed, by me or yourself."

"Maybe I wanna die." Allegra pointed out coldly.

Joker gazed at her.

"If that's the case," said Joker smoothly, "use this." He reached behind him and took out a .35 magnum. He took her clean hand, placing the gun in its palm, and wrapped her fingers around the proper handle and trigger. He held it to her face so she seemingly would take her own life, as he dared her to do.

"You have a death wish, Bunny. You want to die, I believe that but not by me, or anyone else. So you do it."

"I'm not going to kill myself." Allegra stated, lowering the gun from her temple.

"Why not?" asked Joker. "You'll skin your palm before you pull a trigger? Would it not be easier to do the latter?"

"I'm not going to kill myself," she repeated more sternly. "If I do, I'll end up downstairs and I'm not prepared to face my father again. If I do, not even the Devil can hold me back."

"I didn't realize you were so _Christian_," Joker teased. He smirked at her. "What's the deal with you, huh, Allegra? You want to die, but you don't want anyone to do it for you, or for yourself. You'll poke and prod yourself until you are bleeding from an artery, but you won't go to the doctor for help, nor finish it off."

"Sorry I'm not easy to _get_," Allegra returned.

"At the very least," Joker growled, "get off the counter and lie down. You'll get light-headed and I'm not in the mood to lug your corpse from one room to the other."

"You have such a great beside manner," Allegra condescended. She hopped off the counter though, taking the bandages with her, then stopped by a different drawer and took out a sewing needle and thread. Joker glanced at this curiously.

"It went in too deeply," Allegra pointed out. "I'll need stitches."

Joker chuckled again, following her into the living room. Joker pointed to the couch; she sat obediently after he did. He moved her onto his lap as they sat in one corner of the couch. She laid her head on the arm, and he held her hand.

"Give me the needle."

"I'm not giving you anything," said Allegra, "until I see your medical license."

"I'm not your fucking doctor, Bunny. And I won't ask you again."

Sighing, Allegra gave him her bloodied hand. She looked at him, eyes shining with adoration. He gave it a once-over look of observation, cleansed it with alcohol and peroxide, ointment (she didn't even wince, even while his handiwork wasn't particularly gentle), then threaded the needle.

"Oh look, he can sew." Allegra teased.

"Hush." Joker ordered.

Allegra bit her lip. She loved it when he told her what to do.

"Can I have a lollipop when we're through?" asked Allegra playfully.

"No." Joker returned quietly. He was concentrating deeply. "Now be a good girl for daddy and shut up."

"You can't shut me up."

Joker gave her a look and Allegra mewed innocently, "But I'd like to see you...try."

He rolled his eyes and finished stitching her hand. Afterwards, he put a large bandage over and wrapped it in tape. Allegra smirked when he moved on top of her, pushing her legs aside.

"I'll give you the heads-up only once, Bunny."

"Sure."

"You do this to yourself again without my permission, I'll skin _you_." Joker threatened calmly. "If anyone is going to give you bad memories, it'll be me. If anyone is going to be a constant reminder of bad thunderstorms, it will be me, not your pathetic, weasel-hung, decrepit, dense whoremonger paternal numpty. You got that?"

Allegra glanced up when she heard a loud crash of thunder at that point. She looked at Joker pointedly.

"Got it, Killer."

"One more thing." Joker said. He put his lips to hers, kissing gently.

"Uh-huh." Allegra cooed, smiling when he licked her bottom lip. "What's that?"

"If you want to feel pain, _real_ pain, I can always touch this up." Joker purred, grazing his hand over his mark on her hip. He felt it where it was rough, scar tissue.

"Rain check," Allegra whispered. She kissed him back, and Joker chuckled.

Outside, the storm had picked up. The rain became harder, like pebbles panging against the roof and glass windows. One could hear the wind howling every minute or so, the thunder accompanying its sounds with gradually louder growls. Something terrible always happened when it rained. In Gotham, that much was true.

The television was off and the lights were dimmed. Joker lied on his back on the couch, and on him was Allegra. Her legs straddled his waist, her chest pressed against his. Hands were felt on his shirt, moving from the hem and underneath to feel his hard chest; her hands were ice cold, as always. Joker could only see a trace of her—lost in the darkness for save the lightning splitting the night sky, peering into the house to give him a look at the beauty. While the storm had granted a lovely shroud of darkness, it'd given way to Allegra's hormones; he'd found out about ten minutes ago, Allegra was turned on by storms.

Her hair fell down her shoulders as lowered her lips to meet his, gentle, but meaningful kiss. Joker could feel a hint of meaning behind them, a bit uncertain as to what she was trying to convey. Arousal, no doubt, for her fingers were unbuttoning his shirt and then lowered to start on his pants. She wasn't hurried; why the rush, anyway?

"Just think," Allegra mumbled after a long silence, for save the soft sighs she emitted as he moved underneathe her, "someone in Gotham is getting mugged right now."

Joker chuckled, "That's dark."

"Mmm." Allegra returned distractedly. She unbuttoned his pants and boxers, and hopped off him only to take them off, and when she returned to her original position, Joker felt her. She still had her fish nets on her legs and her Queen of the Hearts get-up, but she no longer wore panties. He could feel her, matching him.

"Can you see in the dark?" asked Allegra in a soft, sultry tone.

"Literally, not ex-act-ly. Buuuut," Joker drawled as he reached to her hips, lifting her skirt at the back to feel her bum, "I can always get past it."

She reached behind her and pulled off her shirt. When the lightning flashed again, Joker had a good look at her skin, all of it. She was undressed for save the skirt she wore. Perfectly proportionate, curvy, even. Joker smirked, sitting up. Her legs moved behind his back as they both sat, a perfect fit. Allegra moved his shirt off his shoulders so they were both bare-chested. Joker kissed her on the mouth, finding her tongue without any permission; she moaned quietly when his hands were felt on her front, just below her ribs.

Joker moved his touch down, between them. He caressed her down there, cupping. Allegra moaned as they kissed. He moved her on her back and she laid down obediently. Joker sat back and moved her legs apart, licking her inner thigh before kissing her in a more private area. Allegra hitched a quick breath.

"What did your dad do for a living?" asked Joker.

Allegra was caught off guard, and for that matter, put off.

"He was a cop." Allegra muttered.

Joker kissed her just above her sex, finding a sensitive niche. Allegra closed her eyes, her pleasure focused on his tongue moving just between her lips. Her hips dared to buckle to him, but his hands kept her legs apart.

"Sergeant?" Joker asked.

"Detective." Allegra replied.

"Who knew a pig would do such things to his pretty little daughter," Joker mused. He licked his lips out of habit, and to taste her; she was aroused, even if she wasn't trying to be. He moved his lips to her belly, then to her side, licking where he'd left his mark. Allegra moaned quietly, soft breaths.

His hand moved between her legs, petting her sexy as his lips found her right breast. His free hand fondled the other.

"Did your mom know?" Joker asked lightly.

Allegra winced as the lightning flashed from the window. The sight of him on top of her made her feel particularly uncomfortable in all the right ways. Then it was darkness again. She could feel his wet tongue circling her hardened nip. His left hand on her other breast, teasing and kneading...the other...

"Yes." Allegra finally answered. She felt her heart drop a bit with the acknowledged truth.

"Did she try to stop it?"

"No." Allegra answered, her voice cracked—not for the sake of the answer, but one of his fingers entered her clit. She moaned shamelessly loud, only louder when he entered another, digging deep. Her hips moved upwards to him without her permission; she was wet, soaking.

"But you wanted him to stop." Joker uttered. His lips touched her neck. "Didn't you."

"Yes." Allegra whispered; she could hear him against her ear.

"Too afraid by what he might say?" asked Joker. "Or do."

"Both." Allegra muttered.

"Mmmmm," Joker purred. He moved both hands behind her lower back, his cock just barely touching her sex. Allegra was breathing hard—mixed emotions of disgust from her father's illicit affairs and the arousal of Joker's odd affections. The kiss he offered her was uncharacteristically gentle, the nibbling of her lower lip especially.

"Why are you asking me this?" Allegra asked quietly.

"Everything you and your father did behind locked doors," Joker uttered darkly, "let's do the opposite."

Allegra looked at him curiously, perplexed by the idea and yet equally turned on. Joker thought she might turn against him, tell him he was a sick man (which wasn't far from the truth) but her words shocked him.

"Fuck me." Allegra uttered clearly. "Hard. Don't hold back."

"Really?" Joker asked, amused. "That's the opposite."

"He always held back," Allegra returned nonchalantly.

Joker smirked at her saying, "You are incredible."

He entered her without any warning or hint. His thrusts weren't gradually hard, but started out as such. Her screams were painful, but he didn't hold back. What began as pain soon fizzled into instant, constant, practically endless pleasure. Hard enough that the two of them bounced off the couch and landed on the floor. Allegra pushed him off her, straddling his waist. Her hands pinned his wrists down on the carpet—there was no interruption of it. Joker was impressed, even more turned on when he couldn't get her off him; she was stronger than what he'd been led to believe! But oh how she could _move_.

Exhausted and spent, the two maxed their climax; Allegra lowered herself onto him, kissing his chest then laying her head on him. Panting, the two had no words for what just happened. However, he couldn't deny that with his hands on her lower back and hers on his shoulders that maybe there was something more than just an infatuating partnership. Equal fondness, maybe.

"Well, I finally found a silver lining." Allegra uttered breathlessly.

Joker looked at her saying, "What?"

"A silver lining, to my past."

"Really? What is it?"

Allegra lifted her head and looked at him with an ear-to-ear grin saying, "It's nice to know there's someone who could fuck better than my dad."

Joker gave her an odd glance but couldn't say anything in response except to kiss her. In a way, that was a compliment. But soooo off-putting. Joker smirked. Yep. Definitely a fondness there somewhere.


	20. Pretzels and Rings

Chapter Twenty: Pretzels and Rings

A/N: My OC, Allegra, is not meant to be construed for a replacement of Harley Quinn. I believe she is in _no way_ as sweet as Harley; her past and personality is not meant to be a replica. She's called Joker 'Mistah J' maybe once or twice throughout this whole thing and that doesn't mark her as Quinn.

(())

Allegra watched Joker put the money in a large bag, the size of a grocery bag. She wore normal clothes today: blue jeans, bright yellow shirt and her hair was tied in a braid. She gave Joker a look when he whistled at her to join him in the car. She followed, mainly because she had nothing better to do. When she got in the car, Joker was at the wheel; this time, he wasn't wearing his make-up.

"Where are we going?" asked Allegra.

"Shopping," Joker purred happily. He started the car and drove to a mall. As they received odd looks, Joker continued on his merry way into the building, then to the fashion sense region. Entering a rather expensive suit department, Joker stopped at the entrance, smiling at Allegra.

"Go shopping for a few minutes, come back in twenty," Joker said.

"What are you going to..."

"Do what I say."

"I want to shop with you."

"Don't argue." Joker returned. "I'm getting custom fit. If this tailor is anything like I've heard people talk about, it might get bloody. Get a big pretzel." He handed her a twenty, which Allegra smiled and gave it back.

"I'll get it on my own."

"No stealing, Allegra." Joker scolded.

She stopped short, turning around slowly to look at him.

"What?"

"You heard."

"Great," grumbled Allegra. "Not in your custom-made suit and you're already acting like a different person. I was just gonna lift it..."

"No." Joker ordered. "As much as I love to see your magical pickpocketing, today is a day-off. Buy the pretzel."

"It tastes better when it's free."

"Nothing's free." Joker returned coolly. He took her by the wrist, moving her to him. She gave him a weary look, wondering what he was up to. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "For right now, be a good girl and follow the rules. After I'm finished here, we'll go by Kay's."

"I don't want to lift jewelry," Allegra muttered as an expensive couple walked by them. "I want to get a five-finger discount on a pretzel."

"And I said 'no'." Joker returned. "If I come out and there's a mob after you, Allegra, you're going to get your death wish answered. Now do what I say."

Allegra could feel the prickling in her wrist as he held her in a vice like grip. She nodded unhappily, but her obedience was rectified. Joker dropped her wrist, gave her a warning look, and then disappeared into the shop, greeting the manager happily with nearly a quarter million dollars, which made the manager suddenly _very_ friendly.

Allegra rolled her eyes and ventured off after that expensive couple that had walked by earlier.

Ten minutes passed, and Joker came out in his regular clothes holding a colorful array of clothes in a bag. He waited five before Allegra came back with a great big grin on her face. Joker noticed that ear-to-ear smile, and he frowned.

"What did I say..."

"I didn't steal from anything," said Allegra innocently. "But a woman might miss this." She held out from her pocket a pretty diamond ring.

Joker rolled his eyes as they walked out of the mall. When they were outside, he waited until Allegra was a little bit in front of him and he smacked her behind. She jumped a bit, let out a 'whoo!' and looked back at him. Joker sat in the driver's seat, putting the suit in the back. Allegra sat in the passenger seat, crossing her legs on the dash board.

"When did you lift it?" asked Joker.

"About two minutes after you said not to steal a pretzel." Allegra returned innocently. She looked at the jeweled ring with a pretty smile. "Old hag didn't even see me take it off her hand."

"You took it off her hand?" Joker asked, impressed.

"Well yeah; then when she almost noticed, the husband was blamed." Allegra returned, smirking at him. "I have the magic touch." She wiggled her fingers and placed the band on her middle finger.

Joker scowled. Then out of no where, he reached over and punched her in the face. In turn, Allegra didn't acknowledge the punch, but looked at him with a pretty smile. She didn't cower or make a fuss or become fearful of him like most girls he'd somehow managed to cooperate with. In fact, she merely smiled.

As he drove back to the house and they walked up to the building, Allegra tapped her foot to the back of his knee so he damn near lost his balance. For that, Allegra got another spanking but she didn't acknowledge that pain either. She only laughed at him.


	21. Interrogating the Sod

Chapter Twenty-One: Interrogate the Sod

(())

Joker stood in front of the mirror of the bedroom, finishing his custom made suit with the large purple stylish jacket that came with it. Neon green vest over a blue collared shirt with the green suspenders seemed to be the perfect touch to a demonic clown's style. If he was lucky enough, this trend would spread; irony was comedy's retarded cousin, even if it did give a few underhanded chuckles. How many giggles did good ol' gags and funnies get? Not much. But sarcasm—the irony of it all—was just too good to pass up, including this costume. Nothing funnier than a killer clown. It's a child's and adult's worst nightmare.

With his make-up coated on perfectly, and the suit to match, he gazed at his reflection proudly. A lot of people would get a kick out of his attire, maybe wouldn't take him too seriously. But everyone would eventually know what he was offering was not a plight to a good sense of humor. Joker snickered; not everyone understood his ironic puns like the woman who entered the room with a platter full of chocolates. He looked at her in the mirror, eyes centering on her form.

She was dressed in a black long-sleeved elegant dress; it fell to the middle of her calves, and curved every inch of her; the bust was lowered to reveal the depth of her bosom, showing her valley, and leaving _a lot_ to Joker's tempting imagination. Her hair was pulled up in a long but stylish messy ponytail. He found her appearance intricately beautiful, and funny at the same time. Never had he seen her so...normal.

Her eyes widened, seeing him.

"You look..." She began, searching her mind for a word to describe his attire.

"Dashing?" Joker offered, gesturing to her. She stepped over to him, taking his pre-offered hand; he turned her twice, and pulled her to him. Allegra made a soft chuckle before her back pushed gently against his chest.

"What's the occasion?" Joker inquired, noticing the platter of chocolate she still held in her hand.

"Celebration."

"No fireworks?"

"Not yet." Allegra mused. There was a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "For now, the appetizer. Then the main course." She offered him the platter.

Curious, Joker took a chocolate, popped it into his mouth. He savored the flavor, then looked at her pointedly.

"What's the main course?"

Allegra smirked again, but never answered him. She inclined her head opposite the direction in which he stood, and seeing the nonverbal gesture to follow her, Joker was more than obliged. She had peaked his curiosity with that smile...not just _a_ smile but _the_ smile. That smile that stretched from one side to the other side of her face with such a sadistic twinge that he always felt a bit of blood rush down from his head to his second most important organ of his body...or might have been the first. He took the platter of chocolates with him as they walked down the stairs.

"What's this about, Allegra?"

"You'll see." Allegra purred. She looked at him. "Follow Mama." She clicked her tongue, reminding Joker of himself. This caught him off guard, having seen her start to pick up some of his idiosyncrasies—that's when you knew two people had been around each other way too long.

She took his arm, wrapping it around her waist as they started towards the backyard. Joker's curiosity intensified when she stopped by the kitchen, taking out a sharp potato peeler. She never said a word, only smirked at him briefly before continuing to the back door.

"There's not an ambush waiting for me, is there?" Joker teased, not able to help himself.

Allegra turned to him.

"Impatient man, aren't you?"

"If there's really a dinner out there," said Joker politically, "I'd rather skip it..." he licked his lips, "and get to dessert." He winked at her.

"It's a metaphor," Allegra returned generously. "Unless you're interested flesh el buillone then I'd have the most sympathy for you if you did. I have him tied up and ready to go."

Joker stopped in mid-step, surprised.

"'Him'?" repeated Joker.

"Yes," returned Allegra coolly. She opened the door. "Him."

Joker stared at the scene that invited him out of the door, placing the chocolates on the table before he even left the house. Arms bound behind his back, legs tied to the legs of the chair, sat a man that Joker recognized immediately. While he'd not been antagonized personally by this man, Joker knew him to be one of Gordon's cops...or rather, one of Maroni's infiltrating spies.

Bloodied lips oozed red down the chin and neck. Bruises amassed his forehead, and scratches lined his arms. This fucker put up one hell of a fight against Allegra, Joker observed. What intrigued him more was that even as the man faced himself and Allegra, his eyes were narrowed with hatred, not despair or self-pity, even though he was most deserving of it. He was in his late forties, maybe younger, if that grey hair was just an early-arriving genetic.

Joker chuckled.

"_Who_ is this?" asked Joker curiously, holding his hand out to the man.

"Fletcher Molasse." Allegra reported smoothly. She stood behind the man, looking at her boss. "One of Maroni's men infiltrating Lt. Gordon's unit. But also Maroni's."

Joker smirked. "Double agent?"

"Mm-hmm." Allegra responded, although the smile was lost and the expression on her face was clearly disgust. Joker smirked—Allegra was capable of many things, bad, bad things, but apparently being a double agent was going too far.

"Can he talk?" asked Joker, noticing the man's gag.

"Maybe," said Allegra.

"Why 'maybe'?"

"I punched him in the throat when he called me a 'fucking idiot'." Allegra responded in a soft voice. She looked at the man disdainfully. "I've been accused of fucking before but never being an idiot."

Joker gave the hostage a once-over look. He was alert, but quiet, glancing between the two of them.

"How'd you find him?" Joker inquired.

"In the mall." Allegra returned, smirking at Joker. "While you were dressing up, I took that woman's ring, and the husband was blamed. Remember?"

"Yes, even when I told you to steal nothing." Joker noted, glaring her off-handedly.

Allegra shrugged it off: "_Never the less_, this was the husband. After he was blamed for taking his wife's ring, he made some despicable allegation of calling the cops on her, a tease, but a reference he worked for Gordon, or at least some type of police department."

"How'd you find out about Maroni?" asked Joker, who stooped in front of the hostage to get a good look at this man.

"He's a talker." Allegra mused malevolently. She winked.

Joker laughed excitedly. This was the best thing to happen. While it seemed unclear to him how the man would just happily talk about his allegiance to Maroni while being in Gordon's force, it didn't add up, but it didn't frustrate him. It helped. Planning to infiltrate the mob's money was going to be easy, especially when he found out just where their hideout was.

"Take the gag out." Joker ordered.

Allegra reached in front of the hostage, Fletcher Molasse, and he spit it out, obliged.

"You're not gonna get away with this..." Fletcher began in a scared, meek, but low voice.

"I believe we have," Allegra interrupted. "Now shut up."

"You fucking little whore—I'm going to get my buddies out here, and they'll kill you both."

Allegra side-stepped Fletcher, standing before only to wield back her hand and bitch slap his right cheek. He made a grunt of pain, looking at her somewhat abashed. Did he deserve to be hit like that? Probably, but not so hard.

"Who the fuck are you?" Fletcher questioned Joker, looking down at him angrily.

"Joker," answered the clown with a meager smile.

"That your real name?" asked Fletcher.

"No," said Joker. "And you'll never know what it is. Even she doesn't know." He indicated the woman beside him. "This is Allegra Von."

"The Queen of Hearts," recognized Fletcher, citing the GCN anchorman.

"Guilty as charged." Allegra mused.

Joker stood to his feet.

"Fletcher, you work for Gordon and then you work for Maroni. Seeing you're bit of a double agent, I'll give your talents a trial run."

"Trial run?" repeated Fletcher nervously.

"Yes." Joker stated plainly. "You can work for me, since I'm short on goons these days."

"I'm not working for a freak like you."

He received another slap from Allegra, who took out the potato peeler, placing it against his cheek with a force that was clearly unnecessary but she found proper for this moment. Joker crossed his arms, watching the two of them banter.

"That was fucking rude. Insult him again, and you're mine."

"What are you, his girlfriend or something?"

"Something," Allegra returned smoothly. "But that's for me to know, and you to keep guessing. As I was saying, insult him again, and you're mine for the killing."

"You can't kill me, I'm a cop."

"You're a bottom feeder."

"So are you!" Fletcher snapped, clearly losing his nerves and coming back with anger.

Allegra glared him—Joker laughed. Damn, if looks could kill.

"I'm not working for you," Fletcher stated to Joker plainly. "I'm not a triple agent."

"Where do your little friends gather for meets?" asked Allegra softly. The peeler still hung around his jugular.

"I'm not giving that information out, especially not to you."

"Why not?" pouted Allegra playfully.

"You're a psycho."

"That's sweet, but flattery won't get you out of this situation."

"You're crazy."

Allegra grinned toothily. She looked at Joker who seemed well entertained.

"Let me kill him."

"No, no, no." Joker returned, wiggling his finger at her. "No killing tonight."

"Thank god." Fletcher sighed.

"Although, if he doesn't tell us where they're gathering, it will be useless to spare him. No reason to have a cop if they're just making overtime by sitting around, eating doughnuts and gouging stomachs." Joker drawled.

"But...you can't kill me..." Fletcher squeaked, looking at them incredulously. "I mean, my friends. They'll come for me. They'll find where I am, they know I'll be missing. My wife..."

"Has been taken care of," Allegra finished calmly.

"You...k-killed my wife?" asked Fletcher.

"No," answered Allegra seriously. "She's alive, sleeping in bed, calmly talking in her sleep. Unlike you."

"That's because you kidnapped me!"

"I'll do a lot more if you don't pipe down!"

"I dare ya! Kill me if you're gonna kill me, don't stand there talking about it. You probably don't even have the guts!" Fletcher snapped.

Allegra glared at him something awful. Joker watched her interestedly enough; she put the potato peeler to his jugular, baring it down to a point where he winced and nearly begun crying.

"I killed my father. I have no problems killing you." Allegra breathed. "I have all night, and I'm a very patient woman. Crying, screaming, shouting, begging, pleading—it's not a fucking contest, or some fornicating foreplay. Nothing you say will pull you out of this situation, you're good as dead."

"So why would I give any information to you?" questioned Fletcher through gritted teeth.

"I can make your death clean and simple, or slow and messy. Your choice." Allegra threatened.

Fletcher stared at her, shocked. He looked at Joker.

"What do you see in this bitch?"

Joker shrugged, saying, "She shares my love for blood lust."

"They're...they're meeting in the warehouse, public building. It's being used as some factory, they're meeting in the lobby. Not far from here, just down the road. Has...er...big metal doors and iron." Fletcher spilled uncontrollably as the blade started moving down his neck.

Allegra frowned.

"That's really pathetic, y'know?" Allegra muttered. "You cops are supposed to be loyal, dignified..._brave_. But you just traded in your brethren for a merciful death."

"You threatened me."

Allegra grinned saying, "You could've chosen the braver way out...then again, it won't make any difference now." She licked her lips as she slit his throat slowly, so slowly that the arteries busted and spilled blood over her face, neck, arms, chest, and her lovely black dress. Joker stared at the scene, a bit disturbed, even for his threshold.

When she'd finished slicing him up like a carved pumpkin, there was nothing distinguishable about the man, for save the opened mouth resembling pure terror. Joker looked at Allegra as she licked the blood from the knife as though it was left over cookie baking on a spoon. She grinned.

"Now you know where the mob is," Allegra purred.

Joker put his hand on Allegra's bloody face, saying, "This was a wonderful dinner, Bunny." He kissed her on the mouth, uttering against her lips, "By the way, you look beautiful in red." He winked at her, even as she took a towel and wiped the excessive blood on her skin. She simply glowed with satisfaction.


	22. Just Like You

Chapter Twenty-Two: Just Like You

Author's Note: As the movie starts really going into the Dark Knight, I'm giving all you a warning that my story will not follow word for word, considering I hate it when other stories do. Joker, Batman, Gordon—they won't say all their lines in the same order or the same way. Not all of them anyway. Since it's my story, I kinda mix it up, but I'm staying within the timeline rather well. Just because I'm following the timeline, doesn't mean I can't throw a few surprises your way, yes? Anyway, enjoy the story. And my fellow reviewers who've been with me since day one, I love hearing from you. And Here. We. Go!

(())

It was day time, about a week since the last big robbery, and the day where Joker bought his interesting attire. Sitting around all day was boring Allegra. Since killing Maroni's boy, the woman was consistently restless. Joker noticed it when she was in the backyard, painfully pulling the legs off a spider, one by one. Then she burned the poor critter with a blow torch.

The fire disintegrated the spider to nothing, a fine powder which was picked up by the cool winds of a gloomy, cloudy morning. Dressed in his finest, Joker stood against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Allegra, who sat on her knees, smile and then giggle a bit as she found another spider from the grass that dared venture after its lost companion.

"Allegra, dollface..." Joker stepped towards her, "Are you bored?"

"Incredibly," Allegra answered, leaning on her elbows to admire the wandering black widow.

"I have an idea for a date, if you're interested."

"A date?" Allegra inquired, losing interest in the arachnid immediately. She turned around, looking at Joker with raised eyebrows and widened eyes. The darkness of them had lost their twinkling of sadism, and was replaced with the familiar adoration she normally held in them when she locked eye contact with him.

"Yes," said Joker. She stood to meet his height. "We've only hit two banks. The mob has...what did that poor fool tell you before you killed him?"

"The amount or his last words?" asked Allegra with grim satisfaction.

"The former."

"Over a billion," she answered dutifully. "Why?"

"I figure we can get half that today." Joker returned. From the inside of his purple coat, he pulled out a gun. "Money is well-earned the hard way, but I'm not above a discount. The date, my dear, is going on another bank run..without any one else."

"What, two people hitting three banks without any little fools to shoot on the way?" asked Allegra, wrapping her arms around his neck. "We don't have any allies, Killer."

"Who needs alliances?" Joker returned. He touched her face with his free purple-gloved hand; the other traced the left side of her jaw with the tip of the pistol. Allegra smirked at him with a glow. Joker figured she had three fetishes he knew about: Thunderstorms. Gloves...and anything that caused pain (guns, knives). Holding the gun against neck, she seemed to shiver under its cool surface.

"Can't deny it, Baby," Allegra mewed softly. "Things are quiet around here. Even for me. Silence is the greatest music of life, but I can't deny I miss having people walking in on us during happy time. Or men arguing about what's better—money or sex. And when you're out, I get lonely. The least you could do is give me some fish to fry."

Joker smirked at her playful demeanor, but knew she was right. He'd need cohorts to disband soon. Taking over a few banks was minimal work; he could do it just easily as the next person, a small timer could do it by himself. The last two times had gone off without a hitch—granted, all of them killed each other. It was time to start recruiting.

"You want others on the date?" asked Joker, chuckling a bit. "I didn't realize you were fond of third wheels."

"I'm fond of everything," she responded seductively.

"Fine," Joker told her. "As we go through the banks, let's get a few on board. With your looks, we might get a few willing men."

"Giving me the dirty work," Allegra teased. "I don't think that's fair."

"Don't play cute," Joker told her. "I know you enjoy it just as much as I do."

"I guess. But it's easy work—luring men. They're so...easy to get."

She moved her hands behind him, under his coat. He felt them snake over his back, then lower. A mischievous grin kissed his lips, but Joker had learned that smile from anywhere. He clicked his tongue, and smacked her across the face with the pistol. She went down immediately, shocked. She spit blood, touching her jaw where he'd clobbered her. Looking up, Allegra gazed at him, half-impressed.

Joker pulled out the knife from his back pocket, wiggling it in front of her face.

"I'm a quick learner, Dollface." He smirked at her. "No more pickpocketing. I love your habit, but I won't let you do it to me anymore."

"Mmm." Allegra acknowledged delightfully; she licked her lips from where the blood was traced, and gave him a reproachful look. "That didn't even hurt."

Joker gazed at her, at first stumped. Then he decided if she was going to toy with him, it was time to teach her a lesson. She'd be able to provoke anyone, but he wouldn't allow himself to be the better person.

After she'd mentioned it didn't hurt, Joker stooped, taking the knife to the left side of her cheek where he had struck her. The knife glinted in the cloud light, making a soft glare in his right eye before he gave her a threatening look. Allegra saw the difference, and she stared at him, uncertain.

"Don't forget, Allegra. I'm still your boss." Joker purred quietly. "I let you do what you want, but never forget that."

"We're one in the same, Killer." Allegra uttered softly, but there was uncertainty that cracked her confidence. She smirked. "I mean, you like pain, just as much as I do."

"It's one thing to like it, and quite another to tolerate it." Joker drawled.

She smirked, and lunged forward, but Joker had been prepared for a spontaneous attack. Instead, he swung at her a second time; she went on her back, breathless. Joker straddled her waist, pinning her down so she couldn't get away from him. Underneath him, she wriggled, attempting to flee. Joker didn't know if she was pretending to be trapped; when she wanted, she could push him off or pin him down for she was stronger than what she normally led people to believe.

"You and I may see eye-to-eye frequently, Miss Von," said Joker callously, "But there are days you irritate the fuck outta me."

She gave him a cool glare—evidently, she found that insulting.

He took both of her wrists in his left hand and moved them above her head. She squeaked a little when he put the same knife on her left cheek.

"It's hard to face the truth that we're not completely alike, isn't it, Allegra? My past is ugly, but not as ugly as yours. I can deal with it; you can't. I can lure people to my side without shaking my hips or biting my lips, and you have to face the wind that all you have going for you, is your looks. Hm?"

Allegra growled unhappily, a sound that made the hairs on the back of his neck crawl deliciously. But Joker finally came to a conclusion...

"You want to be me, don't you, Allegra?" asked Joker, knowing the answer.

She stopped struggling, staring at him incredulously.

"You don't want a particular past, with your father's perverse ways or the neglectful mother. You want my past—a multiple scenario in which I can find escapable anytime I wish." Joker told her what he'd known for a long time. "You like watching people suffer, and you don't mind a little cander of your own."

He touched the corner of her mouth with the blade.

"You're so anxious to prove that you have no limits," Joker drawled darkly. "You're a woman with no remorse, no compassion. But no one sees it." He gave her a once-over look. "Because you're beautiful in a _normal_ way, in the _usual_ way."

"That's not true," Allegra protested.

"No?" laughed Joker. "You get by with a lot, where men are concerned. Too afraid of being judged by your appearance. Too afraid of not being able to get by situations with your smiling, your batting eyelashes..."

Allegra stared at him, snarling, "I don't need other men to think me pretty to get what I want."

"No, no, no." Joker chuckled, finding her answer entertaining.

"What _is_ your point?" Allegra hissed, revealing some anger. "Get to it, you're making my legs fall asleep."

"We're going against a _lot_ of nasty people. Can you handle what they dish out? Would you squeal on me if you got caught?"

Allegra stared him down, eyes blazing. She made a struggle to get free, but he had her pinned down really well. She gave him a nasty glare.

"I wouldn't turn on you."

"A lot of women say that," laughed Joker. "But they do in the end. Because the mob always threatens to cut them. Why? Because their looks matter to _them_ just like they matter...to you."

"My looks don't matter to me! You do!" Allegra snapped furiously, still attempting to get free. When Joker pressed the blade against her cheek, enough where it started to sit, Allegra stopped struggling. Imminent fear crossed her eyes, and it was noticeable to him.

"Do I...?" Joker purred, satisfied with her reaction.

Allegra looked at him uncertainly. Then something snapped. Joker saw it happen in that gaze. What had been fear in the darkness of her eyes was now replaced with something quite different.

"I'm loyal to you, Joker. Not to the mob, or the police, or Gordon, or Batman, or anyone. Not to my family either."

"You're a woman, Allegra, and a liar. A damn good one too," Joker mused. "How can I trust someone who would kill their own family?"

Allegra stared him down, meeting his eye contact. Joker didn't see that she had an answer for him, not right now anyway. The mood was killed though, and now, Joker didn't feel like going to the banks to make a withdrawal. This whole thing made him feel tired. He straightened, getting off her. She simply laid on her back, lost in eternal thought. Joker figured he'd stunned her with the logic, for she looked almost broken. The look in her eyes—she seemed almost shattered, unhinged.

Joker didn't mind. It was a good change to see that something other than mischief or adoration was there. He smiled at his accomplishment. Allegra wasn't bored at least; now, she had plenty to think about.

(())

Joker woke up the next afternoon, surprised that he'd slept nearly fourteen hours. Torturing Allegra's mind must have made him more tired than he'd originally gandered. It'd been fun though, really good fun. Women were so easy to manipulate—they overthought too many things, and that might have kept Allegra up all day. Joker started looking for her, wondering if she'd be looking for an apology—the odds he'd give her one directly was as great as Batman taking off his mask—not a chance.

He sat on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table, watching the news. It was then that he found that three separate mob banks had been robbed all last night. Joker couldn't believe it, not at first anyway. Then the news anchorman, Mike Engel, for Gotham Central News (also sometimes reviewed as Gotham City News, depending on the local) looked shaken as he reported the incidents over a shaky microphone.

" 'Last night, three banks—First, Second, and Third National Bank were hit overnight; the perp hit First around five in the evening, an hour later, Second Bank was robbed. Two hours after that, Third National Bank was robbed.'

" 'One police officer was shot with a .35 calibre magnun, and a banker was horribly mutated during aformentioned robbery; witnesses recanted their statements for fear of the convict to return. After the third bank was robbed of nearly twenty million dollars, the robberies had stopped.'

" 'Managers of First, Second, and Third National Bank have concluded that in the past two months, the money, altogether, taken is a little over sixty-eight million dollars.'

" 'GCPD claim that Allegra Von has participated in the three robberies of last night—stealing nearly forty-six million dollars. She is wanted for the murder of Detective Rosh, thirty-eight years old, and banker of 20 years, Reese Katherine, aged 40, also the murder of Detective Fletcher Molasse, aged 39.'

" 'Police have made no comment as to where Allegra Von (AKA Vanessa Davenheart and Queen of Hearts) is currently, but police have put a head on all state highways. Allegra Von is considered highly dangerous, unpredictable—anyone coming in contact with her should contact the police immediately—do not confront this woman. Her identity has been lifted from surveillance camera..."

A shot of Allegra was shown on television, three of them, one for each bank robbed last night. Joker eyed them. He could tell it was Allegra—the way she had shot a police officer (hand gun, no big hotshot pistol or magnum, or shot gun). In the second picture, she held duffel bags of loot. In the Third bank shot, Joker found the picture puzzling.

It looked like Allegra, but at the same time, it didn't. She looked...bloody, despite the black and white photo. Joker took his feet off the coffee table and stepped towards the television, eying it carefully. Something was wrong with her face...someone might've hit her especially hard, cut her, hurt her...probably nothing to worry about.

Joker sighed. At any rate, he knew Allegra had been busy. She hadn't come in last night, and that was why. He wondered if she was just sulking around the house. He started upstairs, looking in the bedrooms quietly, the bathrooms. Nothing. He walked back down the stairs, and there was no trace of her.

_Did she leave_? Joker thought for a second. Was it possible she'd done what he'd always assumed she would do? If so, he had been right. If not, then she was still somewhere, laying low before she could get back home.

Joker felt a bit of an annoying twinge in the back of his mind. Something he couldn't get rid of. He didn't want to admit it, being the callous brute he felt to be. There was no denying it. He kind of wondered where she was at this moment of time.

(())

A day passed.

Joker laid in bed, sleeping deeply until a noise woke him. It was the sound of something being placed on the carpet, a sound from downstairs. Shirtless, Joker sat up, taking the knife on his bedside with him. He held it behind his back, ready to slice anyone that had dared to intrude. He glanced at the sheets, forgetting he'd still had his make-up on—the red, white, and black on the pillow almost had him worried that he'd been killed in his sleep, and this was simply a boring afterlife.

_That's reassuring_, Joker thought humorously.

He walked down the stairs, avoiding the squeaky places. Someone, in the darkness, was walking around none too carefully. Their feet made the easily avoided sounds of walking on the wooden kitchen floors—he heard heels. It was Allegra, or some poor, wandering, unfortunate woman...or man.

Joker watched her in the darkness; her form was definitive. He could tell from the curves and the way she wandered; she was organizing the new duffel bags beside the door, piling them in a small little pyramid. There were twenty bags now—fifteen more than what Joker had counted two days ago.

Joker smirked, hoping to catch her by surprise. He quietly moved to the door so he could turn the light on, catch her off guard. She'd jump and then come up with a quick excuse why she'd gone on these lovely capers without him. Allegra's back was to him as he popped up the light next to the front door. She didn't even flinch as the burst of light hit their eyes.

Though he was a bit disappointed, he suddenly felt a different feeling. There was blood dripping from her face to her neck, off her hands. Joker glanced at the duffel bags, where blood splattered them as well.

_What the..._

Joker put the knife in his back pocket, moving towards Allegra, turning her around to be sure it was really her. It was...but not the way she'd gone.

Allegra looked at him, eyes floating. The darkness in them exposed as genuine happiness to see him. The smile though, was different for the left side of her cheek was slit by a knife all the way up to her cheekbone..like his. Joker stared at her, completely shocked. He didn't even try to hide it.

The blood dripped from the fresh wound to her neck, covering her white shirt with it. Her hands were still bloodied, still having little drops jump to the floor.

"Who did this to you?" Joker asked, still disarmed.

"I did." Allegra answered stiffly—she couldn't talk much. No wonder why. "See?" She started laughing. "Now, I'm just like you."

Joker stared at her, even as she started laughing. At first it was a bunch of giggles. Then, it became hysterical. It explained why she looked different in the third bank picture than the first two. It explained the blood droplets on the bags and from her neck and hands. It also explained why she sat on the floor, laughing her ass off. Joker couldn't help it, as he smiled too.

At least he didn't have to worry about her squealing on him when and if she was questioned by the mob—couldn't ruin what was already marked in the first place.


	23. What I'd Do For You

Chapter Twenty-Three: What I'd Do For You

(())

Joker had Allegra sitting on the couch, hands in her lap as she remained tentative to Joker's touch. He'd rolled up the sleeves o just above his elbows, wearing only his green vest over the blue long-sleeve shirt dotted with outlined octagons. Purple pants and this outfit just didn't match all unless the jacket was with it—the jacket put the whole suit together...well, the make-up too. Joker licked his lips with mediocre concentration, taking a needle and dipping it into the alcohol/peroxide sterilized concoction in a small glass. Threading a small stitching string through it, he placed his bare hands on the left side of Allegra's face; she remained nearly stoic—she barely said anything.

Not that she could; her lips were reddened with the constant seeping of blood and drool, for she'd cut her cheek really well...but not so much that it'd leave the mark of a skeleton behind. She stared across the wall, eyes never blinking even as he pierced the needle into the flaps of skin that slightly hung from the carving. Thank god, he wasn't squeamish.

"You know," Joker began as he broke the thirty-minute silence, "I'm not at all surprised to see your revelations all over the news."

Allegra side-glanced him. He bided her reaction and said simply, "Rob three banks in a fortnight—if that doesn't say 'shopping spree' to me, Bunny, I don't know what would." His voice caressed the pet name he used for her; she noticed the change of tone as her eyes softened.

"I'm not criticizing you," Joker stated pointedly. "Not. At. All." He licked his lips again and then clipped the thread, dipping the needle back in the antiseptic. She gave him a soft look.

"I..."

"Don't talk. Listen." Joker ordered sternly.

Allegra nodded. She looked back at the wall when he indicated the direction so he could continue. Joker threaded the needle again, hardly taking notice that his finger were painted with her excessive blood.

"I've known a lot of women, Allegra, who would die to express whatever emotions they have towards a suitor. Some would go as far as quitting their profession they love most, or deserting their families in the cold, winter air to show that they're willing to go that extra mile for the one they declare their endless feelings...emotions...what have you.

"And," sighed Joker, "I've known men to give up all they believe in just to simply impress a filly. That...that never made sense to me. Women are so easily manipulated, and yet, so are we." He gave the needle a gentle tug and started on the other side of the carving—the corner of her mouth.

Allegra looked at him uncertainly.

"Women think it matters, but," Joker said quietly, "none of that really digs deep—severing all ties to friends family, swearing they'll never betray them again, or some—get this—believe that if they save themselves for the 'right' one, he can truly believe whatever she tells him.

"No, no, no; It takes more to make a man realize that a woman would do absolutely everything in her power to assure him he can trust her with anything—love, hearts, a bag of bones buried somewhere in the backyard." He put the needle in the antispetic, looking at her for a second.

Allegra looked at him curiously.

"Tell me, Allegra. Is there anything you will not do for _me_?" Joker inquired honestly.

Allegra gave him a discerning look. Joker smirked.

"You did _this..._" He indicated what would be an ugly scar for sure, "to prove we are alike. I've gotten the point. But you haven't proved how_ loyal _you are to me. What's your limit, Bunny, hm? Self-sacrifice? Children dying?"

He leaned towards her, clearly entertained by the conversation. "Do you have a _rule_?"

She held the side of her face that was most bloody, saying softly, "I'd do anything you asked. Without question."

"What if it meant killing me?" asked Joker curiously.

Allegra's face shifted to a woeful expression, one Joker recognized. He smiled inwardly—she may not ever say it but it might have been clear just now that Allegra had more feelings for him than what she led him to believe (what's the surprise in that?). Her eyes softened and then hardened a minute later.

"If you asked me to..." She managed. "Yes."

Joker considered her answer. Then, he smiled. From behind him, he took a gun from the inside of the arm of the couch, and held it out to her.

"Shoot me." Joker dared, handing it to her. As an afterthought, he said, "In the arm."

Allegra looked at him incredulously, taking the gun uncertainly. She considered it as a request, not doing it immediately. She put her finger over the trigger, but couldn't pull it.

"I..." she began.

"Don't worry," said Joker. "It's loaded. You said you would do anything I asked. Now I've asked you to shoot me. Do it."

Allegra looked at him. She aimed the gun at his right arm, staring at it as though it was a moving target, despite the fact that Joker remained quite still. She sighed with resignation, cocked the gun, and then pulled the trigger.

BANG!

Joker smirked when she stared with surprise at the little flag hanging out of the barrel. Evidently, she didn't find that amusing for she wielded back her hand and slapped him across the face; even with the stinging, Joker chuckled.

"I guess I deserved that," Joker considered briefly. "Never the less, you've convinced me."

He took the toy gun from her, and continued threading her cheek. She remained still but he saw ever so slightly that the opposite corner of her mouth was trying not to lift. When he'd finished tending to her wound as good as he could, the smile she created was almost a permanent smirk.

"Don't talk for a few days; if you do, it'll undo the stitching. I don't mind poking and prodding you with needles, but I'll be in no mood to have a redo, got it?" Joker instructed.

Allegra nodded. She stood and walked to the mirror to observe his handiwork. He arrived behind her reflection, smiling at his lovely creation. She seemed in a shock, but then turned, wrapping her arms around his middle, and then pressed the side of her face that wasn't scarred against his chest. Her hug wasn't tight, but Joker felt the sincerity.

"You're lucky you picked that side to carve, Pet," Joker stated lightly, uncharacteristically comforting.

She looked up at him. He touched her right cheek, caressing her jawline.

"Your right side is the good one." Joker stated.

Allegra made a snort of laughter then regretted it later when she groaned painfully as the stitching tugged.


	24. Bringing Old Allegra Back

Chapter Twenty-Four: Bringing Old Allegra Back

(())

Within two weeks, Allegra recovered from the disfiguration, and as expected, it left a scar on her left cheek. While Joker's stitching wasn't exactly superb to a surgeon's practition, Allegra wasn't at all displeased with his work. The scar was noticeable, far away or no, but it hadn't become jagged and rough like Joker's scars. She made a soft sigh—for this, she was somewhat satisfied. He'd been right after all, regarding her dependence on good looks and body to get what she wanted out of men (money, sex, favors).

Allegra sat in bed, knowing full well it was high time she got out of the room. More than not, she remained in this sheltered catacomb, sleeping more often than what was necessary. Joker steered clear from her, knowing that Allegra was teetering between affection and displeasure. It wasn't his fault—PMS was Mother Nature's bitch pill. Half the time of the healing, Allegra remained locked in a trance of unrelenting thoughts.

She heard a lot of commotion downstairs—Joker was recruiting with or without her. Never the less, it saved her a bunch of trouble. After robbing the banks two weeks ago, she couldn't easily venture out to the unknown where several familes wanted her dead (some probably wanted her alive to torture the shit out of her like she'd done with some of the bankers). Allegra managed a grin. Remembering the mangled bits of a snappy, smart-ass Katherine Reese from the bank made her grin even wider.

The bitch had it coming, Allegra felt. The smart ass retorts, the sheer attempt of bravery that was so transparent, anyone in that bank could see the woman was just as scared as the rest of them. Allegra had learned to sniff out those who were brave or just cowardly. Katherine Reese had what was coming to her, especially when she called her a 'bitch'. That had been the end of it.

As for the cop, Detective Rosh, who had tried to be a hero, Allegra wasn't sorry for either. He'd tried to reason with her, _get_ her.

'Now, now, we can do this civilly, young lady,' the officer had declared. 'No one needs to get hurt.'

Allegra's answer to that was spoken in a delightful coo of a mother to an infant, 'And what if I want is for someone to get hurt.'

She could hear the bang of her gun as it shot a bullet between his eyes: the cries of women and children; the angry shouts from men. Did they dare to stop her? No. They all stood there, fearful, angry, but none of them dared confront her. Except the pedestal-standing, rich woman Katherine Reese, dressed in fancy clothes and raising her snobby nose.

"They're no better than me," Allegra stated as she thought of Katherine Reese. How she loathed her from the start. She practically _urinated _cash. "In the end, they're all the just the same. We're all just the same." She took a hand mirror from the side of her bed and gazed at her scar, touching it gingerly; she gave a simpering laugh: "Well...on the inside."

There was a loud commotion downstairs, then a firing of a gun. Immediately, the sound of four men arguing was silenced by a single voice after the gunshot.

"Listen, boys," said Joker's voice, loud enough she could hear him. "I'm not running a circus—as great as that sounds—I'm a business business is small but we'll eventually get 'er up and running. We're soon going to get all acquainted. Keep it down—I have someone you might wanna meet."

Allegra glanced up to see Joker coming into the room, dressed for entertainment; purple coat over green vest over his fancy long-sleeve shirt, and violet pants. He wore the gloves, and he smiled at her upon entrance. Allegra gave him a cool look.

"Who'd you bring?" asked Allegra.

"A couple of guys—no one important."

"Where'd you find them?" asked Allegra curiously, sitting on the side of the bed.

"Aren't we inquisitive today," Joker mused, clearly pleased. He stepped over to her. "Come and meet them."

"I'm not in the mood to entertain."

"I didn't ask." Joker stated coolly.

Allegra frowned, saying, "I'm not. In. the mood."

Joker sighed as she turned the other direction, ignoring him. He sighed impatiently. He moved his hand into her hair, gripping the locks back so her neck snapped backwards and she was forced to look up at his eyes. He gave a discerning glare.

"I've been a very patient man to your needs as you've recovered, Allegra. I've given you more time than anyone else I've let join my little team, and I will be _damned_ if you start disobeying me."

"I'll be damned if you think I'm going down there to a bunch of cattle-fucking fucktards," Allegra hissed. "They're on your fucking team, not mine."

"Quite a mouth on you today," Joker stated plainly. He pulled her hair hard enough where she was on her back, holding his hand to pry it off her roots. She made a frustrated growl, which made an arousal spark through him.

"Maybe I should match this cheek with your twin, huh!" Joker growled furiously, putting a blade against her unscarred cheek. She gave him a steady glare.

"Go 'head." Allegra dared. "While you're at it, you can go fuck yourself."

"Hmm." Joker responded, noticing her mood. "I must be seven days late."

Allegra made a taunting sneer at him, and Joker reckoned she was still having that time of the month. This was the worst of them. To her disrespectful gesture of her finger, Joker slapped her across the face, finding that the only way to teach her a lesson was the physical way. Allegra was only disarmed briefly until she reached out to get back at him.

He gave her a hard punch in the jaw; she recoiled against the cheeks, spitting blood on the floor. Allegra moved off the bed and then glared him down. Joker sighed. It was going to be one of _those_ days.

"This isn't up for negotiation, Princess," Joker declared unhappily.

"Piss off." Allegra retorted, turning to walk away.

Joker growled, taking her arms and moving her to him; he restrained her ever-loving attempt to hind kick him in the groin, pushing her forward on the bed. She screamed in frustration, clearly getting more pissed. She wriggled against him, trying to straighten to give him a good head butt but he pushed her on the bed sheets with his hand on her back.

"GET OFF ME!" Allegra screamed angrily—her voice was hoarse with rage.

"Stop fighting me." Joker ordered. "Then I will let you go."

"Fuck you."

"That was uncalled for."

"No," Allegra hissed. "This is!"

What happened next shocked Joker to no end. He watched her—as though in slow motion—pull out a knife from inside the back of her pants and she sliced whatever the first skin contact it made. Joker grunted with the stinging pain, backing off when he felt the slicing blade on his forearm. He glanced at his right arm, seeing a clear bloody cut. Allegra stood as she was granted a short amount of freedom, turning to look at him.

"I carved my face to show we're alike, Joker," Allegra stated angrily. "I've killed many people, even the innocent little bank tellers and good-deed cops. I'll kill the mob, and anyone who you ask me to kill. And if so be it, I'll kill _you_."

Joker laughed breathlessly, looking at his arm then at her.

"I'll do anything you ask—anything. But I'm not your fucking lapdog, or some prostitute you make your daddy day care calls whenever you're feeling lonely." Allegra stated. "I'm not some helpless woman looking for a knight in shining armor or waiting for Batman to come and save them.

"And when I say I'm not in the mood to meet people you think are _acceptable_ to be on your team, I'm not in the mood."

She dropped the knife at his feet.

"If you can't take it," she said quietly, "You can go to hell.."

Joker smirked at her.

"There it is." He said quietly.

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Allegra indifferently.

"The fire." Joker said happily. He stepped towards her. "And here, I thought you'd lost that fight in you. It's nice to know you have it back." He winked at her.

Allegra gazed at him with considerable dislike. Joker smirked at her still.

"After that whole fiasco the other night, I believed you'd become a snivelling little school girl your daddy used to play with in the small, cramped closets of the lower floor," Joker said coolly. "I'm more than relieved to be proven wrong."

"Were you pretending?" asked Allegra.

"Of course."

"All of it?"

"Not necessarily—I do wish for you to meet the expendable idiots I've managed to recruit over the last few hours, see if they match your idea of 'acceptable'. And..." Joker took the knife from the floor, pocketing it in his jacket, and then gave a hard hook into her jaw—she grunted, holding her face painfully, "You ever cut me again, Allegra, Darling, Dollface, Sweetie, Dear.." He stroked his hand once through her hair. "You can be assured all bets are off between us."

Allegra smiled endearingly.

"I'm not sorry for cutting you," said Allegra. "You can be a real son of a bitch."

"So I've been told," Joker renounced, smiling at her. "And you're that horrible joke I tell in a comedy club at which I receive a flying salad bar." Joker returned. He wrapped his arm around her. "Now, get my antiseptic; while I stitch this, you can meet the idiots."

Allegra chuckled as they walked down the stairs.

"Why would you be at a comedy club?" asked Allegra.

"Are you kidding?" Joker asked.

"Because you're 'joker'?"

"Of course not—some of those comedians are just not funny," said Joker seriously.


	25. Take Orders From Milady

Chapter Twenty-Five: Take Orders From Milady

A/N: Warning—LEMON! :D

(())

Indeed, Allegra did meet the men after she had assisted Joker in stitching the cut she'd sorely sliced in him. He never winced, just like her, as the stitching was brief and simple. They accompanied one another down the stairs as Allegra held his arm, like a proper, elegant escort as she'd originally worked before joining ranks with him.

Seeing the four men standing side-by-side, they looked more like soldiers than the misfits, rather than those she'd been accustomed to meeting. They were thinner, granted, but none the less, looked a bit wry and mischievous. Made more obvious to their current situation (or predicament), there was not one of them that looked the slightest bit innocent...then again, Allegra could relate.

Of the four, two of them were colored; the other two, white. The first two were very similar to each other, and Allegra guessed they were brothers, especially when they spoke.

"Tell her your names," Joker instructed as he sat on the tan couch, watching the introduction.

The taller brother introduced himself as 'Darren'-no last name. The other beside him was named 'Steve'. Darren was taller than Steve but only centimeters. Their dark brown eyes were just as dark as their curly black hair, and the sparkly white smiles they gave Allegra were almost sincere if it wasn't for the gaze lowering below her neck to oggle at the more interesting artillery.

They noticed the scar on her cheek, the one looking quite semi-identical to their new boss, but they seemed to look past it. The body made up for the face. Or at least, that's what their quirked eyebrows and prominent smirks resounded. Allegra noticed it.

"Look, but don't touch." Allegra said coolly. She looked at the two Caucasian men. These two were not brothers, maybe friends, or at the most, close acquaintenances. The first was taller than the right, a lot thicker (fat, not muscular) and had something of a grim expression on his face.

"What's wrong with you?" Allegra asked.

"Are you a hooker or something?" asked the first, looking at Allegra was a newfound resentment. He vaguely indicated Allegra's serene attire—the red flaming knee-high skirt, fish net stocking, the black/white montage shirt that revealed a _very_ generous amount of valley (no wonder the boys greedily watched her).

Allegra didn't answer, mainly because Joker did that for her.

"She's something of a grand visior to me, kid." Joker said, arms outstretched on the back of the couch. Allegra turned to look at the boy as he added, "I'd be careful how you address the lady. She's awfully uh...temperamental."

Allegra smirked at the guy, saying, "What's your name?"

"Ryan," he answered curtly. "What's yours?"

"Allegra." She returned.

The newbie made a snorting sound—derisive, and very disrespectful. The boy beside him nearly turned god-awful pale like a vampire when Allegra's eyes flashed, and her scar crinkled as she smiled darkly at him.

"Might wanna back up there, yo," Darren warned the unnamed kid.

Taking his advice, the kid immediately went the opposite direction of Allegra's deadly glare as Ryan's eyes, a pale ocean blue, never left the dark. He crossed his arms, looking arrogant. Allegra stepped towards him, standing before him with the bitterness of a woman scorned.

Joker reasoned that Ryan had simply made a callous gesture of defiance of authority—unnecessary, but harmless. However, Allegra took this as an insult, and being a woman who needed to defend her feminist rights to a leadership position, she stepped close to Ryan—they were the same height, so she had no towering prowess. Joker smirked though when her hand lunged between the boy's legs and she gripped him hard enough that Ryan lost his luster.

"For someone who thinks they've got the balls to stand up to me," Allegra growled threateningly, "You certainly don't have the sack to compensate for it." She grabbed him harder—boy, Joker could definitely feel _that_ as Ryan made a cry out of pain and only when he dropped to his knees did Allegra let him go. She looked down at him.

"See where you are, little man?" Allegra cooed as though speaking to an infant. "Down on your knees, down where even the fucking little midgets can spit on your neck? That's where you belong. Can't take orders from a woman? Tough."

She placed her heeled boot on his shoulder, pushing him to the ground on his back; he looked up at her, and what originally had been arrogance was now a slight adjustment of his confidence. There wasn't exactly terror in his eyes, just the added anxiety of having underestimated Joker's little squeeze.

"I killed my father when I was sixteen, and I've killed bank tellers, cops, and my own fucking people—I have no qualms sticking a knife in your belly, you arrogant toe-rag." She bent at the knee, and pulled a switchblade from inside her right boot. "Fuck with me, Ryan. Do it. I dare you. Because slicing you up for the dogs will be easier than gutting a turkey on Thanksgiving Day. Your entrails will be your extrails; and I'll keep you alive the entire time, while I watch you eat your own fucking intestines. Got it?"

Wide-eyed, Ryan nodded quickly—terrified to shit.

Meanwhile, Joker was grinning admirably. He glanced at Darren and Steve—the two were admiring her impressive use of profane language. The other boy had said nothing, only staring at Allegra as though she was the spawn of the Devil. There was a brief moment in which Allegra put the switchblade back in her boot, smiling at Ryan; she patted his cheek with her index finger as though the mother had finished scolding her children and now was the time she'd say that she'd only said these things for their own good, to teach them a lesson.

Naturally, nothing like that came out but her smile of calm and sincerity was well-played.

"What's your name?" asked Allegra, looked at the unnamed boy. He was shorter, thinner, and blonde, resembling much like Kyle, one whom Allegra had worked with prior that bank heist in which the men were instructed to shoot each other after their task had been carried out. Kyle had died shortly after the heist begun.

"R-Richard."

"Well, Richy—welcome to the team." Allegra said smoothly. She patted the boy on the back and then turned to Joker. "These are all the men you gathered in the past two days?"

Joker shrugged: "I don't host try-outs for girlscouts, Allegra."

"Looks like it's all you brought in my opinion," she replied smoothly. She gave them all discerning looks. "Nice to meet you all. Welcome to the team. Here's the kitchen, living and dining area, stairs. I'm going upstairs to shower now that pissy britches shit himself." She made a soft laugh at that.

Joker, Darren, Steve, and Richard all looked at Ryan who was trying hard to disguise the foul smell with a shy smile of innocence but that made him seem all the more guilty.

(())

Allegra undressed down to her underwear, leaning over the side of the tub to turn on the hot water. Acclaiming the temperature, she waited for it to heat up before remotely stepping behind the plastic curtain. Her wait was five minutes, as she looked at the mirror, running her hands through her hair before placating that the shower time was now or never—cold, be damned.

She kicked off her socks, and stepped over the tub, muttering about the inability of people who weathered these faucets to spew anything aside from cold water—it was damn near freezing! Shivering to the bone, she turned the knob completely in the opposite direction, hoping that the heat would pick up. When it did, there was a sigh of a relief.

Allegra closed her eyes, allowing the jet to soak her hair and body; she felt the droplets crawl down her neck, her breasts, tummy, and down her legs. There was a knock on the door.

"It's open." She called out.

The door opened and Allegra saw in the curtain that it was a shadowy figure. He closed the door behind him—whomever it was.

"I'm not dressed to receive," said Allegra callously. Her tone was biting—warding off the newbies if they'd dared to try and get a sneak peek.

"I'd hope not," said Joker. He snaked in behind her, nude as she was. She turned around, smirking at his muscular nudity. The war paint he wore regularly was washing from his face, spinning circles into the drain. She made a soft sigh of relief.

"What'd you think of 'em?" Joker asked, licking his lips of the last of the make-up; he tasted greasepaint, but all too familiar the taste of it. Allegra turned away from him, closing her eyes to the shower head as it milked warm water; it was starting to feel more inviting.

"No more than what I thought of the others," said Allegra softly.

Joker moved behind her, arms moving under hers so he touched her belly, moving her to him. She made a soft 'mm' when she felt his rod between the back of her innermost thighs. Her back moved up against his hard chest.

"There is no pleasing you, is there?" asked Joker half-seriously.

"Easily pleased, hard to impress." She returned lightly. She leaned her back to see him give her an off look. She moved her hand behind her to feel the touch of him in a more intimate area; she grinned. "Speaking of hard..."

"You realize," Joker interrupted, "you may have damaged that boy's chances of having any children?"

"People like him shouldn't breed," replied Allegra with quick wit.

This made Joker laugh, which turned into a low moan when her hand began to fondle him. She turned in his arms and in doing so, Joker found her ass which he grabbed. Allegra made a soft 'ah'. She looked up at him.

"Anyway," She stated off-handedly, "It was fun immasculating him. People like him should learn to take orders from a woman."

Joker purred, "I can't but agree with you."

"Ever thought about taking orders from me?" asked Allegra. Her hand started squeezing him in soft circles; the other pushed his chest against the wall so his back collided in an inaudible thud. Her ministrations on his cock made blood rush from his brain to the very thing she was aiding.

"Not exactly," Joker sighed, "But...mmm..." (her hand moved closer to his base) "But I can always be persuaded."

Allegra slid away from him in one solitary movement, turning off the water. Wet and naked, Allegra made a gesture for him to follow her; he did so—the blood pressure hadn't fallen completely back to its regularity and so he couldn't begin to express the sexual frustration she'd caused. When he'd gone into the room, Allegra was no where to be found. Then his hands were pulled behind his back and they were locked together with...

"Handcuffs?" Joker inquired, surprised, feeling the familiar cold metal on his wrists.

"Yes." Allegra mused, holding the key in front of him.

"Where the hell did you get these?" He indicated his restraints.

Allegra pushed him on his back, in the middle of the bed. She joined him shortly after, sitting between his legs.

"That cop I killed in the bank—Detective Rosh—had a spare. He didn't see any point in having them if he wasn't going to live." Allegra reasoned. She put the key on the bedside table, then moved back between his legs, where her hands began to listlessly graze his inner thighs.

Joker made a soft growl.

"Don't worry, _Killer_." Allegra uttered seductively as she licked his base. "Mama's gonna take over tonight."

Joker felt the metallic wrist bracelets, twisting his wrists so that he could move his arms over his head and he could use them to his advantage. He sat up, pulling his bound hands over Allegra's head; she reacted immediately, snatching the coiled wire between his wrists and forcing them to link around the bed post. He gave her a sardonic look.

"It's time you learned to obey _me_." she said softly, moving on top of him. She straddled his waist, her sex just barely making contact with the rigidity of his own arousal. Her body stretched over his like a cat, flexible, soft. Allegra's breasts compressed against his chest as her hands moved and linked through his fingers. Their lips made contact, kissing until they broke only for a break.

Allegra smirked when Joker gave her a smoldering look.

"Don't like restraints?" she asked innocently.

"Not really," said Joker.

"Mmm. I like 'em." She grinned recklessly: "You're setting a new trend. These days, everyone's getting them."

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"No." Allegra returned after thinking about it. "I believe it's the actual truth."

She straightened, repositioning so she sat on his hard-on; as she did, she moved her hair all to one shoulder. To Joker's taunting pleasure, she began touching herself. Allegra lowered her hands from her hair to her breasts, down her ribcage, and then moving between their connection.

Joker felt her kitty begin to grind against him. Slowly but surely, she began to pick up her pace. Her moans eluded her mouth just as he could feel her become wet on his mount. It dawned on him that Allegra enjoyed the imminent pleasing torture of his restraint as she did with the slow suffering of a blade. There was a lust in her eyes, mischief on her smile.

"Moan for me." Allegra said nicely, entwined of a simple but very distracting dance that drew attention to her breasts and hips.

Joker didn't do as she commanded. She wasn't taking him on that easily. However, she did give him a break, leaning past him to get the key off the end table. She held it in front of him.

"Moan for me," Allegra hissed beautifully. She pushed her frame in a harder grind against his hips and Joker felt a wave of instant gratification simmer his blood. Involuntarily, he uttered a low groan. Allegra's grin was wider than he'd ever seen it before.

She lowered her frame to him, lips guiding his neck, her tongue tasting him. Meanwhile, down below, the deep, hard grind of her sex against his shaft had become an almost unbearable torture. God, how did he want to be inside her.

Her lips kissed just beneathe his ear whispered: "Kiss me."

He resisted for a few minutes, biding his restraint. But the soft moans emitting in his ear and on his neck as she felt him hardening even more between her legs was practically a bargaining chip. At this rate he didn't mind giving in—he could feel just how aroused she was by the reversed roleplay. Everything about this situation was making her hot and ready for him.

Joker kissed her when she made a soft peck to his upper lip. At first, it had been gentle. Then passion superceeded. Allegra moaned in his mouth as he lifted his hips to meet hers. She reached to his hands, unlocking the handcuffs. When she did, Joker flung them to the opposite side of the room; he took her by the shoulders, pushing her on her back.

"How bad do you want me?" Joker growled. "Let's see." He moved his hand between her legs, cupping her initially, then moving two fingers along the swollen lips; he felt her heat, then inside. Allegra moaned when he fingered her, finding a shadow of a mini-orgasm.

Her hips lifted to him, possessed on their own accord.

"I'm going to enjoy hearing you_ scream_." Joker told her. He withdrew his fingers, lifting her legs over his hips so he could feel her heated core. Allegra moaned involuntarily, feeling him tease the entrance.

"Do it." She said.

"You handcuffed me, Bunny. We're doing this my way." Joker stated, but couldn't deny his own need. He continued teasing her, never entering, just poking inside to a point where she longed for full contact.

.Her fingernails raked his back in need, in urgency—desperate, longing. She was sweating with a desire to be full-filled. Never had Joker seen her so vulnerable to him, so lost in the moment.

"Beg." Joker growled.

She didn't—not at first.

"Please," she said. Joker kissed her neck, tasting her. Then her mouth.

"You're not convincing anyone," he panted.

"I want you," Allegra said desperately, her voice cracked with need. "Inside me."

His teasing had become unbearable to her; she lifted her hips to him each time he made contact, hoping for a break, needing a release.

"Tell me how you like it," Joker growled in a deep voice.

She was exhilerated, almost hyperventilating. She was in his control, under his manipulation and it was a sweet pleasure. Such a dark beauty—all his. Then a smile teased her lips as she said with a delicate moan, "Mama likes it _rough_."

Joker made a soft chuckle, but it was a key to her undoing.

He thrust into her hard, never holding back. She was a torrent of moans, and as the fucking became harder and rougher, her screams were short and loud. She began to shake, reaching to a closer climax, a powerful one too. Time passed and Joker felt her succumb to the ultimate orgasm—her muscule spasm between her legs held him in with a surprisingly impressive constriction; the moans that erupted were spastic and uncontrolled. In a few more thrusts, Joker felt his own peak.

Breathless and satisfied, Joker rolled off her; she moved to him, a leg between his and a hand on his chest. They were panting, and sweaty—or maybe that was the water from the shower.

Allegra moved her head against his neck and she kissed his neck with her tongue. Joker glanced down at her, and they kissed one another in an uncharacteristically tender moment. It passed as briefly as it had come, for Allegra smiled mischievously.


	26. Who Falls First

Chapter Twenty-Six: Who Falls First

A/N: Joker doesn't necessarily 'love' anyone so this chapter was a little too OC for Joker, but I think it's the closest to an honest answer he'd provide as far as any subtle feelings for a woman. I also like Allegra's answers to his returned question—she's by far the best OC I've ever made. Have fun, darlings! We're really getting into the plot now!

Allegra laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling. What layered in her mind was nothing but a harsh memory. It was one of those nights, the ones where she could clearly remember every single thing her father did that particular day. The storm, the temperature, even the clothes she'd worn that night. They'd been new jeans, ones she had worked her ass off to buy—they were bloodied the same day she got 'em. She sometimes missed her father, but not in the sense most people did. The only reason she'd bring him back to life was so she could kill him slower, colder...blood was cheap, so was the thrill, but she'd take it just the same.

Her eyes constricted against the darkness, allowing them to close in consistent distress. She wouldn't sleep the rest of the night; that calm endeavor was lost when she awoke from the terrifying nightmare, reliving it all over again. She didn't wake up in a cold sweat, or scream in fear—no. Allegra had stopped those kind of nightmares. Instead, she'd woken up with a frown on her face, one that didn't suit her. Disappointment was the emotion she felt, and it wasn't inviting.

She glanced to her right, seeing Joker lying on his side, facing her. He slept as though he was having a good dream, or maybe a really bad one. Every now and again, he'd sigh, or make a brief groan. Like her, he wore nothing—another night of rough sex had left them both exhausted and at first, Allegra had been sure she'd fall right to sleep. She had, but not for long.

"I can't sit here." Allegra stated her thoughts aloud. That much was for sure; she'd go crazy thinking about her father as she laid beside the Joker. She made a soft smile, only to him. The smile she reserved _only_ for him.

She turned, sitting on the end of the bed, completely nude. She moved the blanket over her skin, covering her breasts and down. There was a chill in the air, one that hung too familiar. The pain between her legs made her realize that Joker had been a little rougher than usual. She didn't mind; it made her feel better to know there was still a beautiful feeling such as pain—after all, pain was meant to be felt.

Allegra lowered her head into her hands, entwining her fingers through her tangled locks. There was another reason why she was unable to sleep—her father was one. But a less mind-fucking thought was the mob they were about to confront. Allegra wasn't afraid of the mob. Hell, she wasn't afraid of the wind, but at this moment, Allegra felt vulnerable. The wind howled outside; the night stretched too long.

"I'm going mad," Allegra muttered as she flinched at the sudden slap of the window shutters against the glass. She was never this jumpy, not even the night of when the police questioned her intentions after slicing her father's dick off with a potato feeler. She didn't so much as cry when they cuffed her in the backseat of the black-and-white flashing sirens and lights.

Allegra felt a hand on her back, cold as ice. She didn't have to look behind her to see that Joker was awake. The bed shifted with the moving weight as she felt him move behind her. Hands touched her shoulders, and rough lips kissed her neck briefly.

"What's on your mind, Bunny?" asked Joker calmly.

"The usual."

"Tigers, and lions, and bears..." Joker teased apathetically.

"Oh my," Allegra finished, knowing the reference. She turned her head to see him giving her an off-look. "The usual bad dreams."

"The funny thing about dreams is that they're only in your head. And that's not even the funniest part of 'em." Joker stated plainly. "Come here."

Allegra followed him back to the middle of the bed. She smiled when he put his hand on her cheek, his thumb sliding down her jawbone then over her lips.

"What's troubling you?" asked Joker.

"Seriously?" asked Allegra in return; she lied on her back as he balanced on his side, supported by his elbow. She could feel his body heat, and that kind of relaxed her but the cynical tone she upraised made Joker smirk at her.

"_Seriously_." Joker answered. "You're not the type to worry."

"What makes you think I'm worried?"

Joker gave her a skeptical glance and Allegra smiled, guilty as charged.

"I'm not worried," Allegra claimed solemnly. "It's just..."

"Hmm?"

"I've never seen the mob before," Allegra uttered quietly. She shrugged, adding, "We're going to see them tomorrow. There's gonna be a lot of 'em."

"And?"

"And you're just going up to them and saying, 'hey, we stole your money, join me'." Allegra responded sarcastically. She half-smiled, saying, "That's what you're doing, isn't it?"

"More or less. But I'm not recruiting mobsters," said Joker coolly. "I have all I need right here with me."

"I won't believe that," said Allegra curtly. She smiled when Joker gave her a subtle look of confusion. She explained: "I like you, Killer, but I know you could replace me just easily as I could possibly replace you. The only reason you haven't is that I'm your urge that can't be cured by any babbling bimbo you can pick from the streets."

"Actually," said Joker calmly, "I'm not sure you are."

"What?"

"Replaceable."

"Bull shit," laughed Allegra, hitting him in the arm. "I'm not a naïve filly, Killer. I can separate your bullshit from your semi-lies."

Joker smirked at her, saying, "Fine. We've established that I don't love nor you, me."

"And I intend to keep it that way. If the mob descend, they'll put you in danger, or me. Given a way out, I'm scraping out alive. I might consider saving you if I know I have a chance in coming out alive as well."

"Your self-sacrifice is so _noble_," Joker replied sarcastically.

"Don't tell me you would do differently."

"Oh, I wouldn't." Joker agreed with her, smiling. "But I do have to wonder—if you had no concern for my well-being, then why are you up early tonight, hm? Surely..." He touched her lips with his index finger, "Your insomnia is afflicted by more than the possible absence of little old me."

Allegra smiled at him when he clicked his tongue.

"You want me to say it, don't you?"

"Say what?" Joker asked.

" 'I love you'." Allegra answered. She sat up. "I won't."

"I don't expect you to," said Joker. He sat up with her. "On the other hand, I have noticed that your particular fondness of me has become more than just an unhealthy attachment, Allegra."

Allegra gave him a look, saying, "You_ know_ I'm infatuated with you."

"And_ you _wonder if the feeling is mutual," said Joker knowingly.

Allegra was disarmed as she bit her lip, wanting to know the truth. Did he like her as much as she liked him? Was there more to this situation than they'd bargained for, or was it all delusional. Allegra frowned when Joker smirked at her—the fact he knew what she was thinking made her feel vulnerable, but he wasn't wrong; she _did_ want to know.

"Yes," confirmed Allegra finally.

Joker chuckled.

"Knew it." He returned. "Look-listen..." He put his hand behind her head, weaving his hand through her tangled hair. "I'll put it to you this way, Bunny."

Allegra smiled.

"If you and my mother were dangling off a cliff, and I had to choose which one to save, I'd let her fall first before I let you die too." Joker claimed with a dark smile.

"Ahhh," gushed Allegra with a broad grin, "that's so sweet."

"Now, it begs the question—between your father and myself, who would you let fall first...?"

"You." Allegra answered immediately.

"Well, it's nice to know you wouldn't hesitate," Joker laughed.

Allegra shrugged again. She kissed him on the cheek briefly. Joker found this a confusing gesture but that large grin on her face was all the explanation he needed. Although, he wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or she was actually kidding him.

"What about the mob?" Allegra asked quietly. "Are you going alone?"

"I've planned on it, but I'm a flexible person—I like to watch things play out. So uh if you decided to tag along, I couldn't say 'yes' or 'no' to that," said Joker smoothly. "Chaos tends to follow close to your heels, my dear."

Behind him, Allegra began to decide if she should go with him. At any rate, she wanted to hear his proposition with the mob.


	27. Mob Ties

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Mob Ties

(())

When Joker awoke the next morning, he dressed in his finest suit (the purple get-up) and applied his war paint. He took extra care to make it especially presentable; after all, first impressions were top priority, particularly the face. Joker smiled—the mob wouldn't take his proposition initially but with Gordon closing in on them, and Batman just chasing down their every foothold for dirty money laundering, it was only a matter of time.

Joker descended the stairs with a bounce in his step. As he rounded the corner in the kitchen, he saw that Allegra was in the backyard; she was sharpening a knife, cradling the blade as she drew it one side over and over against a rock, increasing the point—sharp, and deadly. Joker made a curious glance when he heard a few scathing noises from behind; he turned to see Darren, Steve, Richard and Ryan (the new recruits) watching Allegra enviously.

"What's wrong, kiddies?" Joker asked, clearly enjoying their disgruntled looks as they attempted to hide their disappointment.

"Why take her?" asked Ryan, clearly having found his balls since Allegra nearly squeezed a life out of him. She had been merciful, but Ryan still walked with a limp as his boys were still agonizing from Allegra's angry throttle on them.

Ryan looked at Joker boldly, wanting to know why Allegra was permitted to go with him to the mob's meeting while they'd been instructed to remain at the hide-out. Joker glanced at Allegra; she had begun to sharpen the blade's twin (the knife she normally kept just inside her boot). She hummed a lullaby, but he couldn't identify the name.

"She's just a woman," Ryan stated offhandedly. "She won't scare the mob, not like us. We can outmatch them; we can scare them."

"You?" Joker laughed, pointing at him. "You would scare no one, let alone their wives and children."

"Numbers mean everything," Ryan objected. He stood from the couch, walking to Joker, who gazed at him with surprise—Ryan should have learned his lesson with Allegra to never obstruct the ranks.

"Really?" replied Joker sarcastically. "I never noticed."

Ryan stopped just in front of Joker, apparently trying to prove a point. His newfound friends, Darren and Steve (the raven-haired brothers) and Richard (a quiet but wise fella) remained sitting, knowing Ryan was passing a line for walking right up to Joker like that. No fear in his eyes, just disrespect. It was clear Ryan still didn't know just how to act around leadership.

"She's just a woman, Boss," Ryan insisted. "We can scare the mob into agreeing with you—with guns and ammo. They can't say 'no' to men with guns."

Joker chuckled; he lashed out to Ryan, taking the man's gun before he could even reach to take it back. Joker placed the fire against the fool's head, cocking it, and placing his finger over the trigger.

"If I can disarm you this easily, my little naïve idiot, you can bet the mob will too." Joker returned coolly. "But you do have a point—Allegra _is_ a woman, that much is clear. Buuuut you mistake her for some vulnerable, petty little girl that runs to daddy for moral support when her boyfriend decides to break up with her. You underestimate her, just like the mob will. And that's the funny part."

Joker released the trigger when Ryan began to sweat, his face breaking into a wincing cry.

"Please," Ryan muttered. "Please...Don't kill me."

"Mm, better change your pleas, boy," Joker stated calmly. He flipped the gun in his hand so he held the barrel and the handle was offered to Ryan.

Fearful, Ryan hesitated before taking the gun and putting in his back pocket again.

"What were you saying about scaring the mob?" Joker asked, smirking at him.

Ryan shook his head and sat back down. Joker nodded, satisfied with his response. He turned when Allegra's humming had come closer to him as she put a knife behind her back, pulling her bloodred t-shirt over it, and placing the other knife in her left combat boot; she wore cut-off flared jeans.

"You're going like that?" asked Joker.

"Yeah," said Allegra. She shrugged, saying, "Girl's gotta look tough." She licked her lips briefly, glancing at Ryan, who still looked shaken up. "What's wrong with him?"

Joker smiled saying, "He's decided not to join the meeting."

"Shame," said Allegra. She crossed her arms, adding, "I've always admired the mob, see how they work and hire. At one point, they used to be big with guns and loan sharks nested all over the Narrows."

"Sounds as though you're interested in applying for a job," Joker stated suspiciously.

"Oh, please," laughed Allegra. "I only felt that way a few years ago. You know, when lawyers and cops and people in general steered clear of them. They'd mug you when you least expected it. Now, they're just scrambling to get a piece of any action assuming Batman has left anything for them. By the way he's clearing the streets, the mob probably has no one else to buy from, assuming the product is any good. At this rate, they're lucky to score any crystal."

Joker stared at her, perplexed at her words. He smirked at her.

"Sounds like you know a lot of what goes on," Joker stated, finding her tone a bit all-knowing.

She half-smiled. The other half seemed to twinge between confidence or a delusional pride.

"You used to work for them, didn't you?" asked Joker with delight.

Allegra shrugged uneasily as she said, "At one point."

"You are just _full_ of surprise," Joker giggled. "So why'd you quit, hm? Didn't like the work?"

"Work was fun—hacking into people's lives with threats of paying back loans, or else the children, wives, husbands would be kidnapped or killed," said Allegra softly. "Starting fires, killing buyers, or accidentally knocking people out of the window." She reconsidered and quoted with her fingers, smirking as she restated, "You know, 'Accidentally'."

Joker chuckled, stepping towards her curiously, "If the job was so gratifying, then why the resignation?"

"It's like I told you in the very beginning," said Allegra. "Pay-off was shit."

Joker laughed. Oh, this was too great.

"And the other reason," added Allegra.

"What other reason?"

Ryan, Richard, Darren, and Steve stared at Allegra and Joker interestedly. Joker on the other hand was starting to peak his curiosity.

"Well," Allegra said innocently, "Before I got tired of all the rules and policies tied to the Mob, I had a small going-on with Sal."

"Sal?" repeated Ryan, confused.

"Salvatore?" Darren and Steve said incredulously.

"Who's Sal?" Ryan asked.

"Maroni." Darren responded.

"Who?" Ryan questioned, becoming more irritable with a straight answer wasn't given.

"Salvatore Maroni," said Joker. He glanced at Ryan. "You should really get with the times if you plan on confronting the mob, kid. He's the successor of the old Falcone mob family." He looked at Allegra, smirking at her. "And I've just found a great punchline."

He took her arm, saying happily, "Oh, you are definitely coming with me to the meeting."

"Oh great," Ryan complained, "now she's going just so he can rub in his relationship with her to the mob shits."

"I think it'll be a hoot-and-a-half," Allegra agreed with Joker.

Ryan sighed in frustration while Darren and Steve were laughing. They got the punchline—a beautiful girl would rather hang out with a psychotic clown and his posse than be with a hotshot Mob-head. Yep, that was funny!

(())

Author's Note: And thus, another piece of Allegra's past has been revealed. A really awkward moment will ensue when Allegra arrives to Maroni and the Chechen's meeting with the Joker. It'll be great fun! XD Thanks for the reviews! Happy to bring some of Allegra's sadistic humor back to the twist; I missed it. :D


	28. Mob Meetings Matter

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Mob Meetings Matter

-A/N: I thought this chapter turned out a lot bloodier than I had intended but at the same time, this was better than what I had planned. Happy with it, and hope everyone else is too. (I'm just anticipating the chapter when Allegra and Batman have their own battles—it'll be fun! :D.)

Joker sat in the passenger seat as Allegra madly drove through the streets like the road rage woman she was. She cut off semi-trucks in exchange for running a stop light and a stop sign in the middle of Gotham City at five o'clock when all the school buses and cars were leaving from work on a Friday afternoon. She glanced behind a few times to hear people curse at her, giving her the finger, even getting out of their cars to give her something in return; if Joker had permitted it, she'd have stopped and turned around just to show them who they were threatening. However, there were more important things to do...until the moment when Allegra parked the car and she had cut off a rather muscular man, who'd just about to turn into the same space she now occupied. He swore loudly, and Allegra heard.

"That was my fucking spot, bitch." The man uttered in a deep voice. A loud disgruntled voice...rude too.

Joker saw that look in Allegra's eyes. She looked at him.

With resignation, Joker sighed (but smiled), "Go on."

She grinned mischievously, taking a knife from her boot, and flipped the blade. With a look of raucous delight, she got out of the driver's seat, turning to the muscular opponent. He was larger than he appeared in the side-view mirrors as the Joker stepped out of the passenger seat, closing the door on the exit; he fixed his suit as he watched the man walk abrasively over to her.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" asked the man angrily. "I was here before you were." Joker noticed the man's nose was a little pink due to the cooler weather today; he was pale, large, and wearing a tee shirt despite the bracing wind that every now and again left chills down one's spine.

"That's not how I see it," said Allegra smoothly. She indicated the car. "Looks like I was here before _you_."

"Get out of that spot."

"Make me."

"You're a spunky little bitch, I give you that. But this isn't a game."

"Santa still won't let you play in any of those reindeer games, will he?" Allegra taunted. She was standing before him; her thumb lovingly stroked the blade; sharp as it was, it left a cut.

The man noticed the blade, then that ever goading smile about her. Joker cleared his throat, gesturing to her that he was going in, with or without her.

"I'll catch up later," said Allegra. She turned her head to the man.

Joker shrugged carelessly and walked ahead inside.

Allegra looked at the man.

"I've got a meeting to attend, bucko," said Allegra smoothly. "But I have all the time in the world to..."

He punched her in the mouth. Allegra laughed with surprise, hitting the ground face-first. She looked up at him.

"Straight to the point, huh?" Allegra spat blood, touching her scarred cheek, where a bruise would reveal itself later.

"Come on, you carved up bitch. Winner gets the parking spot." He said gruffly, raising his fists.

Allegra laughed again, saying, "Seriously? You're going to get in a fist fight with a woman just over a _parking spot_?"

"That's been my parking spot for _years_," said the man. "And I'm entitled to it. Now get up, dollface—I'm late for a meeting."

"Fantastic." Allegra said, getting to her feet.

He beat her to the quick, kicking her in the shins so she went down again. Allegra grumbled, "Well that escalated quickly."

"Get up. I'm gonna make you my bitch," the man threatened.

Allegra smirked up at him. She spread her legs mockingly, her voice dripping with sarcastic seduction, "I'd like to see you try."

He stepped forward and the next sound he made was the last.

(())

"For obvious reasons, I couldn't tell you where I've placed it, but rest assured, the money is safe." A man on the television voiced confidently, and Joker found this hilarious as he made his self-invitation through the kitchen of the hotel, knowing full well the mob had paid off the staff to let this happen (not that they needed to pay much as most people who were nobodys still feared them enough).

"We don't know where the money is," stated an off-handed employee of either Chechen's or Maroni's, "How do we know to put guards around it?"

"Guards are unnecessary," said the television. "I've sanctified it with my own staff."

"What, the police won't find it, will they?"

"Forget that," said another colored small timer, "I'm worried about that clown."

"Two-bit whack job that wears that make-up, I doubt he's anything to worry about," said Maroni confidently.

"What about the girl?" offered the same small-timer. "She took forty-something million dollars out of those three banks within the night. Something tells me she can get through some Chinese hindu shit locker."

Lau made a scoffing noise, saying, "A woman couldn't break into the facility, particularly her. Your money is safe, and my fortress is impenetrable."

"What stops the police from getting to you?" asked the Chechen, who felt that the woman and the clown weren't anything to worry about as he clearly passed that topic for this one.

"I go to Hong Kong where Dent has no jurisdiction. I've paid off the one in China."

"Sounds too good to be true," stated Gambol, a tough-looking, slim-dressing colored folk. He added, "Maybe I should pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming."

"Why stop there?" said a voice, an echoing chuckle that followed.

Entering the vicinity with a purple coat and make-up was the devil himself, Joker; he looked at them with a grin.

"Who the hell are you?" asked Gambol, standing up slowly as he observed the intruder.

"Wanna see a magic trick?" asked Joker. He slammed a pencil in the table, upright where the point was noticeable.

"How 'bout one of my boys comes over and pulls your head off?"

The aforementioned thug got out of the selected chair and stepped over to Joker only for him to grab his hand in mid-throw, slam his head over the pencil and as he staggered, dead, to the ground; the pencil had disappeared from the table, and into his eyeball. Joker said dramatically, "Tada! It's gone!"

He sat down, looking at them all with mock mysticism.

"Charlie!" shouted Gambol, looking around. He glanced at Joker, saying, "He loves ripping freaks like you apart."

Joker merely waited for 'Charlie' to arrive but there was no indication of him arriving, if he was here at all. Gambol looked around, noticing said man's absence. Maroni and the Chechen looked around, curious, too, why Charlie wasn't at the meeting today; he was just five minutes late, but ten minutes seemed highly irregular for a man who was so anal about punctuality.

"Must have gotten lost in the traffic," said Maroni carelessly, looking at Joker warily. "You do something to him?"

"For once, I'm complete_ly_ innocent," said Joker, finding it downright amusing.

"He's probably delayed," said one of Gambol's thugs, glancing at Joker with dislike.

"Permanently."

The voice echoed just as Joker's had—this place had _great_ acoustics! Joker didn't glance behind him, for he knew it was Allegra's voice that mischievously echoed in the walls. The reaction though from the mob did make him curious to look behind him after a second's pause to see Allegra's shirt and pants drenched in blood. Her arms were smeared with it; her hands and face were just as bloody, although some was wiped off. She made a broad grin at Joker.

"Boy could take a slice," Allegra stated, standing beside Joker.

She'd attempted to wipe most of it, but clearly missed a few spots. "Big guy had a _lot_ of blood in him—bled like a stuck pig," she giggled.

"Who the fuck are you?" said Gambol incredulously.

"_Who the fuck are you_!" Allegra returned in the same voice, smirking at him. "See how rude that sounds?"

"...Kate?" said a shocked Maroni, staring at her with incredibility.

"It's Allegra," said Allegra smoothly. She gave the mob head a cool look of disdain. "You never could get it right."

"At the rate you change your name," said Joker in his defense, "it's hard to get it straight."

"You're with him?" Maroni asked, indicating the clown.

"Well, yeah," replied Allegra as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Who the hell is she, Sal?" Gambol asked.

"The bitch who stole our money," said the Chechen with a smile in her direction.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," said Allegra smoothly. She gave Maroni a look. "It's your fault all this has happened, you know. If it hadn't been for you, none of this would be happening."

"This is about revenge?" asked Maroni.

"No," said Allegra, laughing at the scenario. "Not at all, but I do love seeing you squirm in your seat, Love. I always have." She looked at Joker. "He didn't tell me he was married when he was with me."

Joker chuckled, looking at Maroni, saying, "Can't have your cake and eat it too."

"As much as I love this Jerry Springer show," said Gambol unhappily, "why the fuck should we listen to either of you? I should knock your block off."

"And I should rape your brother but you can't get everything you want in life," said Allegra pointedly.

Whether she made good on a threat or was just an empty insult to get his goat, Gambol stood, to pulverize, but the Chechen stopped him.

"Stop, I want to hear proposition."

Joker nodded his thanks to the Chechen, as Allegra breathed, "Rain check."

"Behave," Joker ordered, glancing at her.

Allegra shrugged, walking over to the readied buffet in the back order lines of the kitchen. She made a notion to freak out the staff so they dissipated else where and she ate from the buffet, taking some shrimp pieces and popping them into her mouth as the business continued between Joker and the mob. Joker made no intention of acknowledging Allegra's presence; she might not have been there at all. Every now and again, Maroni would glance in her direction, perplexed by her sadistic nature for she'd not always been so mad..then again, her true colors didn't always come out so...openly.

"So what do you plan on doing about him?" asked the Chechen, referring to the caped crusader.

"It's simple," said Joker. "We uh kill the batman."

Laughter ensued, but Joker ignored them.

"If it's so _simple_," Maroni responded ironically, "why haven't you done it yet?"

"Mother always said, 'If you're good at something, never do it for free'."

"How much you want?" asked the Chechen, considering his offer.

Joker paused before answering, "Half."

The mob started laughing derisively before one of Gambol's men voiced quietly, "You're crazy."

Allegra glanced in his direction, mindful of the insult as Joker returned, "I'm not. No, I'm not."

"If we don't deal with this now," said Joker calmly, "not even uh—Gambol, here—will have a nickel for his grandma."

"ENOUGH WITH THE CLOWN!" Gambol growled, standing up again threateningly.

Allegra made a move towards the table, her knife flipping from its extension; she was by Joker's side, ready to pounce, but Joker had a one-up on the grumpy goon. He pulled out the left side of his jacket, saying, "Now, now—let's not _blow_ things out of proportion."

Allegra's eyes widened as she saw the grenades wired to one big explosion. She made a small laugh, saying, "Ha, ha. I get it—'_blow__'_."

"I'm glad you find all this funny," Maroni told her.

"What can I say—I love a man with a sense of humor." Allegra mused.

"You think you can steal from us and walk away?" said Gambol unhappily.

"Yeah," answered Joker. s.

"I'm placing a bounty on this clown—five hundred, dead—a million alive so I can teach him some manners first." Gambol growled, glaring at Joker.

"And for the girl," Chechen voiced coolly.

Gambol glanced at him, "What?"

"Can't make her feel like she's left out," Chechen stated, grinning evilly at Allegra.

"And who says Chivalry is dead?" said Allegra smoothly, glancing at the Russian before turning to Gambol.

Maroni and Joker glanced between the Chechen and Allegra, the two wondered if there was something of a connection between the foreigner and Allegra. Despite the Chechen's admiration of Allegra's clear madness, he still wanted her dead. And Allegra was...just Allegra.

"Why don't you give me a call," Joker drawled as he placed a card on the table, "When you start taking things a little more seriously. Here's my card."

He clicked his tongue for Allegra to walk out, but she didn't. Her eye was on Gambol who watched them with just as much dislike. He was gone as Allegra stepped towards Gambol, who glared at her the entire time.

"You don't know who you're messing with, bitch." Gambol growled angrily.

"I've worked with shits like you for years," said Allegra, indicating Maroni. "I know the difference between people who play the fish out of water trick, and those who really the play the game the way it was meant to be played." She grinned and walked away. "See you around."

Gambol thrust his hand in the pocket of his jacket, ready to blow her head off but when he searched for the weapon, he found nothing. He glanced at his empty hand, surprised. Then he looked at Allera expectedly; before she stepped out of the door, she waved his gun in his direction and left with it.

"How the fuck..." began Gambol.

Maroni was laughing ironically, saying, "She's not changed a bit."


	29. Bloody Hands

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Bloody Hands

A/N: This chapter is extremely dark but Allegra can handle herself. I think this is the darkest chapter I've written to date; it passed even my threshold a little, but it truly shows how calm (and insane) Allegra can really be during events that would traumatize most people. R&R.

(())

When the door opened to the hideout, Darren and Steve reacted to Allegra's bloody appearance. When she reconciled that the blood didn't belong to her, they seemingly calmed down. Allegra smiled at them gently, saying, "But it's nice to know you care so much about my well-being."

She walked past them and saw Ryan and Richard engrossed in an arm wrestle; Richard glanced at Allegra briefly acknowledging her appearance, and this made Ryan win by a landslide. Richard stared at her incredulously.

"What..." he began.

"It's not mine," said Allegra. "It's Charlie's."

"Who the hell is Charlie?" replied Ryan, who popped his knuckles in victory.

"Doesn't matter now," said Allegra. "He's lying dead on the street."

"You have a problem with killing people," said Ryan notably.

Allegra smiled at him, saying, "It's not a problem. I can wash the blood from my hands whenever I wish. I just don't like to."

"Actually," said Joker, who entered shortly after (eyes turned to him), "I think it's best if you don't."

He closed the door behind him, walking past Allegra and standing in front of the crowd.

"Things are gonna start cooking," he drawled. He looked at Allegra. "Especially after that little party you stirred up at the meeting."

"They asked for a little grease on the fire," returned Allegra. "That Gambol guy pisses me off just by looking at him. Thinks he's got the fire power to mess with me, well, I showed him."

She reached from behind her and held out the gun that didn't belong to her. Richard and Ryan gave it a once-over glance.

"You stole from a mob guy?" asked Ryan, surprised.

"More than once," said Allegra. She tossed the gun to Joker, who caught it nonchalantly. "I didn't have to, but the look on his face was priceless. I'm glad I did."

"I'm surprised you didn't shoot him," Joker stated (hardly surprised at all) as he opened the barrel to see that it was fully loaded, no blanks. He snapped it back.

"What's the fun in that?" asked Allegra pointedly, making the others look at her uneasily. "Besides...I figure I'd leave that kind of killing to you. I like a good celeb shot" (she winked at the pun) "But I'll wait for a cop."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of 'em." Joker stated.

"I'm not," said Allegra. "I think the mob will be cowardly before they die; cops sometimes go down, guns blazing. I just want something that'll give me more of a fight." She looked at the boys who were gazing at her with extreme discomfort.

The talk of going out and killing random people obviously made them uneasy. While Darren and Steve only seemed anxious of the casual topic of murder, Richard shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Apparently, he'd done dirty work like burglary or brief kidnapping but nothing quite so permanent as a vital killing, particularly where the mob was concerned. A homeless shit wouldn't come after them with an army—the mob would.

Ryan, on the other hand, had a _look_ on his face.

Joker found Allegra's comment presumably amusing for he half-smiled, and tossed the gun to Richard, who caught it after a moment's fumble. He put it in his jacket pocket, while Ryan still watched Allegra anxiously. The blood on her body, the look of mischief on her face, and the way she simply smiled at Joker with a mysterious glimmer caused a lot of awkward tension. Joker gave her a look that was similar...but his was more hidden than hers.

Allegra made a soft sigh, leaving the room wordlessly before going upstairs to wash herself off from the blood. She took a quick shower to get the ick and grit off, then drew herself a bath, lying in it happily. No bubbles, but that was just fine; she didn't feel in the mood for soapy wonders.

She dipped her head into the water, holding her breath briefly. When she came to surface, opening her eyes, she let out a gasp, seeing Ryan sitting on the side of the tub. His eyes watched her hungrily, almost a predator look in them.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" asked Allegra.

"Oh come on—taking a bath in a house full of men, and you wouldn't think one of us would sneak past the boss and get a good look at you?" asked Ryan, laughing a little at her ignorance. "C'mon."

Allegra sat up, not caring that he stared at her nudity. She crossed her legs, sitting up.

"I'm not sure what you're planning," said Allegra smoothly, "but I think the best thing for you to do at this moment is get up, turn, and walk away, and close the fucking door on your way out before I get a fucking towel and stuff it down your throat."

Ryan growled (a noise that was too masculine for a little shrimp like him) and it surprised Allegra as he shot towards her, his hand grasping her throat; his fingers burrowed into her neck, catching off her air. Allegra attempted to pull his hand away, but he was stronger than what she'd been led to believe.

"I can kill you now, Allegra—or is that even your name."

"Piss off." Allegra managed weakly. She coughed.

Ryan put both hands around her neck, pulling her up and out of the tub; she fought against him, slapping his face, attempting to kick him. Then he forced her on the ground, straddling her waist; she growled inwardly when he dropped one hand from her neck to fondle any part he could reach of her.

"I bet you like it when that fucking clown does this to you," Ryan breathed. He lowered his mouth to hers, forcibly kissing her. "Open your mouth, Allegra. This will be easier if you don't fight it—one way or another, I'm..."

"...Going to die!" Allegra snapped, finding the opportunity to throat-punch him when he kept trying to kiss her.

He coughed, disarmed, and Allegra moved to run. He caught her ankle, forcing her back to him. When she felt his body, she realized with the disgusting knowledge that he'd already had his pants undone and down. She felt him hard against her backside, his hand moving down her sides and groping her behind; she made a move to get away, but he pulled her back just the same.

"I'm going to enjoy having my way with you, you psycho bitch!" Ryan hissed. He pinned her wrists down to the floor, spread her legs with his so his naked member grazed her behind.

Allegra growled furiously but she kept fighting.

"Thatta girl." Ryan purred. "Fight me. I love it!"

He pressed himself against her, about to do the deed.

The door opened. Allegra looked to her left to see a blurr of a purple coat, and then Ryan was squealing like a pig as Joker carried him out of the bathroom. Allegra got to her knees, brushed herself off, wrapped a towel around her, and walked out of the bathroom.

Joker had Ryan cowering against the wall, arms up in a defense, but Joker merely gave him one long look before tossing a knife to Allegra; she caught it by the blade.

"Have fun." Joker said, smirking at her. He sat on the bed as Allegra smiled deviously at Ryan, who started whimpering.

She carved him like a pumpkin.

Allegra finished, pulling the knife from his entrails when Ryan finally died, his last memory being to watch his intestines slither out of his body while Allegra passionately proportioned him for the Thanksgiving feast. Allegra dropped the knife on the ground, brushing a hand through her hair. Having sat there and watched her, Joker gave her a look.

"Did he get far with you?" asked Joker calmly.

Allegra sat beside him, still wrapped in what was currently a bloody towel.

"No worse than my wares," answered Allegra smoothly. "Why'd you stop it?"

"I hate the idea of one of my recruits manhandling my second-in-command," said Joker, glancing at the corpse of the recently late Ryan.

"Mmm, and I thought you cared for me a little more than," said Allegra half-seriously. She touched her neck semi-consciously. "Fucker had a good grip."

Joker sent her a curious look, but said nothing as she leaned towards him and kissed him briefly on his cheek, touching his scars lightly with her tongue. She made no further an attempt to make it more than what it had been. Allegra stood to her feet.

"Guess I really can't completely wash the blood from my hands," she chuckled, glancing at the red that covered her fingers. She went back into the bathroom to clean up again; Joker found it practically admirable that Allegra could accept being sexually assaulted by Ryan and return to a semi-normality, as though it didn't affect her at all. Joker smirked...ode to the crazy women in the world.


	30. Making Conversation

Chapter Thirty: Making Conversation

A/N: A light chapter in comparison to the last :)

(())

"He was gonna die eventually," said Darren offhandedly as he began digging in the backyard, hopping on the edge of the shovel to get a good dig. He wrenched it upwards to fling the dirt, nearly showering Richard, who had another shovel, but looked too uneasy to do anything but hold his frame over the pole. Darren's brother, Steve, dragged Ryan's shell into the ground, following a trashbag of blood dripping pieces.

"Woman did a good job on this dog," said Steve, finding it almost hilarious. He made a quiet chuckle, tossing the black bag on top of Ryan's opened eyes.

"He should've known what was gonna happen," said Darren, looking at the poor sap with dried blood crusted all over his face and arms. He began piling the dirt, glancing at Richard. "If you ain't gonna help, give the shovel to my man, Steve; not gonna get finished with you just standing around."

"I feel like we should have done something, held him back, or..." Richard began unhappily as he gave his shovel to Steve, who took it graciously; he stood opposite of Darren, across the hole, pouring trodden soil into the hole, over Ryan's gaped mouth.

"We did," Darren insisted. "You said 'I don't think it's a good idea'. I said 'fuck, no', and Steve said 'if you do, Ryan, she'll gut you; if she don't, Joker-Man will'."

"She didn't have to cut him up like that," Richard said uncomfortably, glancing at the rest of Ryan as the hole was gradually filling.

Steve stopped filling the hole, only to lean against it with his weight, looking at Richard like he was crazy.

"Some uncouth ass tries to fuck you from behind when you takin' a nice ol' bath and you say _you're_ not gonna give him one-four? Trust me, kid," said Steve pointedly, "We were better off without this pervert. I mean, sure, I'd like to get some of that action" (he gestured to the house, referring to Allegra) "but I'm not gonna get it the hard way, if at all."

"Like you could get any," Darren laughed, filling the rest of the hole. He stepped onto the space, flattening it down with the shovel, then his feet. "Anyway, Ryan was a coward—at least this way, he's not gonna screw up any plans Joker's made for us."

"But that kind of death..." Richard began uncertainly.

"Is what people like Ryan deserve, man."

"But what makes you think Allegra hasn't..."

"I'm sure Allegra has had her picking of poor bastards," said Darren knowingly. "She's off her rocker, completely senile—one crazy bitch. But she's the kind of bitch I'll come to love and respect, because she knows not to cross any of us."

Richard glanced at the brothers uncomfortably as he asked, "What makes you think she won't cross Joker?"

"Are you kiddin' me?" laughed Darren. He threw his shovel at Richard, who ducked in time as it flew over his head. "She and Joker are like this close," (he crossed two fingers), "They're tight."

"Do you think he loves her?"

"Doubt it," Steve told Richard.

"But why save her?"

"I'd save you from being butt-fucked by a chump, but that doesn't mean I love _you,_" returned Steve, proving a point.

Richard nodded, understanding the idea.

"Love, Shmove," said Darren with a sigh. "All that matters is that we're alive and I don't know about you, but I'm not planning on dying for a woman I know I can't make it with. She's got the hots for Joker—no one else. Speaking of which—I'm going out."

"Out?" Repeated Richard. "Where you going this time of night?"

"Out for some ass—not gonna be any good-looking psychotic bitch but I'm sure I can find one close to Allegra's size," said Darren happily. He made a wink and then began walking out. Richard and Steve glanced down at the ground, knowing under there the maggots were gonna slowly eat away at Ryan's corpse. The two glanced at each other again, shrugged, and considered Darren's plan. That sounded like a better one, yet.

(())

"They'll be awfully disappointed to know you'll be dead," said Allegra placidly, referring to the mob as she was watching Joker move across the living room with a large trash bag, about his size. He was testing it out, to see how well he'd fit inside. First he laid on the ground, then did something of a shimmy to get inside. He looked up at Allegra from the bag as she stood over him with an entertaining smile on her face.

"Hopefully not too disappointed," said Joker. "Am I hidden?" He put the trash bag completely over his face.

"Yeah," stated Allegra. She stooped. "Do you want me to hit you with an Anvil after which you still try to attempt to catch Road Runner?"

Joker pulled the trash bag off his face, looking at her pointedly.

"Something like this was on a cartoon I used to watch when I was younger," Allegra explained. "The only thing to complete it would be some anal bird with a country accent walking past you, tripping over your seemingly dead body, falling into a trap. Then you get up, in victory, but irony drops an anvil on your head, knocking you off a cliff. Sometime later, a mushroom cloud would form."

Joker sat up, looking at her interestedly.

"You watched way too many cartoons as a kid, Bunny—maybe that's why people are doubting your insanity."

"Watching too many cartoons doesn't drive me batty," said Allegra lightly. She stood to her feet. "Canceling them does...that, and my daddy's odd ways of showing me affection."

"Ten-year-olds take a lot of what they've learned from television and apply it to every day life," said Joker. He placed the trash bag on the coffee table. "Then again, I can't remember any kid show that has patricide in it."

Allegra shrugged, crossing her legs. Joker sat next to her. She turned around, lying her head in his lap. He glanced down at her.

"Granted, after I killed him, I was a petty thief. Five years ago, I started working with the mob. Then here we are."

"Larceny is in your blood," said Joker lightly. He touched her mouth with his index finger, then traced her soft scar to her left cheek. "Although, I've been wondering why you never bothered to kill your mother while you were at it?"

"I have no reason to harm her," Allegra returned nonchalantly. "She's a passive drunk. No sin in that."

"And yet, she knew the _entire_ time? Sounds like a crime to me." Joker returned.

Allegra laughed, asking "What, are you suddenly condoning righteousness now?"

Joker made no comment. Instead, he ran his hands through her hair, which made her eyes feel heavy. Allegra sat up when she felt drowsy, and she looked around curiously.

"Where are the boys?"

"Out," Joker answered, laying his arms on the back of the couch.

"Where?"

"Does it matter?" asked Joker.

"Not exactly, but..."

"After the beautiful example you made out of Ryan, I doubt any of them will jump the gun, Allegra," reasoned Joker to a point where he sounded sarcastic.

"Not afraid any of them will go to the mob and betray you and me?"

Joker gazed at her curiously.

"What's with the sudden paranoia?" asked Joker. "You've gotta trust your brethren, Allegra, believe they won't cross you. And, well, if they do, that part is just as fun to hand out."

"Maroni is a slick man; he can turn anyone to him. That's why half the fucking '_brethren_' is working for him," said Allegra unhappily. She crossed her arms.

"My men won't cross me, Allegra," Joker stated firmly. "They know better, or should. Unlike your father, Batman, Gordon, the new DA, or even the mob, I have no rules." He reached out and touched her chin, moving it so she looked at him. "The only person of whom you should be afraid, my psychopathic Bunny, is me."

Allegra smiled a little.

"See, there it is, look at you." Joker chuckled. He thought for a moment: "Whose side was your father on?"

Allegra frowned as she said quietly, "Gordon's."

"Did Gordon know about his little...hobby?" Joker asked. He moved her closer to him; they were within kissing distance.

"No."

"Did he ever learn?"

"Yes."

"When?"  
"After I killed him."

"Did he listen?" asked Joker curiously.

"As well as anyone who would listen to a ten year old," said Allegra quietly.

"So I'm guessing 'no'." Joker told her lightly.

"You guess right." Allegra replied. At this moment, Allegra reflected something of disappointment in her voice, a stroke of emotion that wasn't false, but genuine. "Between my drunk mother who noticed nothing, and myself, they had only my word and his death to go on. But...because I was so young, they didn't try me in court—I got a slap on the wrist at the most, and some therapy."

"Did the therapy work?" asked Joker.

Allegra gave him a sarcastic smile, saying, "What do you think?"

"Just as well," Joker assured, "crazy isn't bad. It's has done wonders for me."

"I thought you said you weren't crazy."

"Mm, it's one thing to know you're a bit off the edge and quite another for someone to tell you you're crazy," said Joker smoothly. "You, pet, are a brick that fell off the empire state building."

Allegra frowned.

"It's a compliment." Joker explained.

"Fascinating," said Allegra. "Don't tell me you're about to appeal to humanity and say killing my father was a justified act of my own self-righteousness."

"Not at all."

"Then why were you talking about people deserving this and that earlier, if you weren't..."

"This is what I call 'making conversation', Allegra. That, and I like hearing you talk about your daddy issues—makes me feel better about myself." Joker returned, grinning when she looked shocked.

Allegra stared at him. Then she smiled.

"What if I appealed to _your_ humanity?" asked Allegra cleverly.

Joker sent her a questionable look, one that appealed to her; she simply giggled, and mounted on him, simply sitting. Her hands drew a diagonal line from his shoulders across his chest; in that green vest, Joker was a business man, and it only seemed proper to talk business. But Allegra liked him in that suit for more reasons than one; it made the clown thing morbidly comical but she did like her men in uniform. Her inquisitive smile made Joker eye her carefully.

"I doubt you could," Joker replied, intrigued.

"Would I be wasting my time?"

"Most likely, but I'd like to see you try," said Joker flatly. He brushed his hands behind her head, tangling in her hair. "You've managed to impress me a few times in the time I've known you. I wouldn't mind being impressed again. As I've said before, you're uh full of surprises."

Allegra smirked at him.

"Wanna play 'Therapy'? By looking at your past, I can see your present."

"And as I've told you a long time ago," said Joker calmly, "I have multiple pasts."

"Then pick one."

"I have no favorites."

"Then pick randomly." Allegra responded.

"Is this your method of appealing to humanity?"

"Not exactly."

"Then why the banter?" asked Joker tiredly.

She leaned forward, balancing her weight with her hands flat on his chest; she kissed him briefly, but he didn't return it.

"Therapists are mind-fucks, baby," explained Allegra. "I'm trying to fuck with you."

"There are easier ways to fuck me than picking my brain, Beautiful." Joker told her calmly.

"But I like your brain." Allegra replied, smiling happily at him.

Joker rolled his eyes, saying, "I'm not going to enable this any further. Get off me."

Allegra shrugged; to his surprise, she actually obeyed.

"Y'know, any other man would love me to pick their brain," said Allegra. "Alive or dead." She crossed her legs like an Indian, looking at him pointedly.

"The funny thing about that," said Joker calmly, "I'm not like any man."

"No, you're right. You can be classified as a complete psychopath, inhuman and a monster." Allegra returned. "You kill people only for your own sick pleasure, and while you insist on me appealing to your humanity, you've told me to stop."

"I never told you to stop trying," returned Joker coolly.

"Well, you never told me to go on either," persisted Allegra.

Joker stared at her pointedly, saying with slight annoyance, "What exactly are you trying to prove, Allegra?"

"'Prove'?" repeated she with much amusement. "I don't have a point."

"Then why are you arguing with me?"

Allegra shrugged, saying, "I'm only making conversation."

Joker thought for a second and realized his words had been thrown right back at him. He made a scathing noise. Allegra smiled smugly at him though.


End file.
